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(minting  ly  Sir  Daniel  Macnee,  J-. 

a  iy  the   directors'  ol 
Scottish  IVi 


PLATFORM  ECHOES: 


LIVING  TRUTHS  FOR  HEAD  AND  HEART. 

ILLUSTRATED  BY  NEARLY 

FIVE   HUNDRED   THRILLING  ANECDOTES   AND   INCIDENTS, 

HUMOROUS   STORIES,  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES  AND 

ADVENTURES,    TOUCHING    HOME    SCENES, 

AND  TALES  OF  TENDER  PATHOS, 

DRAWN  FROM 


Brigl)t  anb  0f)abn  Sibes  of  Cife 


BY  JOHN    B.   GOUGH. 

•  A  UTHOR  OF   "  SUNLIGHT  AND  SHADOW." 

WITH  A    HISTORY   OF   MR.    GOUGH' 'S   LIFE   AND    WORK, 

BY  REV.  LYMAN  ABBOTT,  D.D. 


from  ©rtgtnal  IBcsfgns  bg  tfje  fHost  lEntinent  Artists. 


SOLD  ONLY  BY  SUBSCRIPTION. 


HARTFORD,  CONN.: 
A.   D.  WORTHINGTON  &   CO.,  PUBLISHERS. 

1887.  ' 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1884, 

BY  A.   D.  WORTHINGTON  AND   COMPANY, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


N  several  occasions,  to  oblige 
English  friends,  I  authorized 
the  publication  and  corrected 
the  proofs  of  notes  taken  dur- 
ing some  of  my  public  utter- 
ances. With  these  exceptions, 
for  more  than  thirty  years  my 
words  have  been  reported,  printed, 
and  sold  with  no  regard  to  my  wishes, 
without  proper  revision,  and  often 
with  annoying  and  absurd  mistakes. 
I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  have  some  personal 
light  to  their  oversight,  and  also  to  the  time  and  manner  of 
their  appearance.  In  addition,  every  year  for  a  long  time 
past,  requests  from  various  quarters  have  been  made  for 
authorized  copies,  of  this  or  that  public  utterance. 

One  special  inducement  to  submit  them  to  the  publisher 
has  been  the  reception,  to  my  siirprise  and  pleasure,  of 
many  letters  from  Great  Britain,  United  States,  India,  and 
Australia,  from  a  few  of  which  I  extract  such  sentences  as 
these  :  "  I  was  induced  by  reading  your  speech  to  give  up  the 
drink,  and  begin  a  sober  life,  to  which  I  have  kept  ever 
since."  "  I  owe  my  position  in  life  to  reading  one  of  your 
orations."  (I  should  say  here  that  the  word  oration  was 

M102741 


yl  PREFACE. 

never  given  by  me  to  anything  I  ever  said  in  public.)  From 
another  letter  I  quote  these  words :  "  My  whole  family  are 
abstainers  from  the  fact  that  one  of  your  printed  speeches 
came  into  my  hands  at  a  critical  time  in  my  life."  Respect- 
ing the  notes  on  other  topics  than  temperance,  I  have  re- 
ceived such  expressions  as  these :  "Since  I  heard  you  I  have 
tried  to  be  a  better  woman."  "  The  effect  on  me  of  your 
lecture  was  to  make  me  earnestly  desire  to  be  better,  to  live 
better." 

Fully  sensible,  as  I  am,  of  many  faults  and  shortcomings 
in  these  records  of  the  platform,  I  remember  gratefully  the 
sympathetic  and  encouraging  words  of  a  master  of  platform 
power,  whose  voice  is  now  hushed  in  death,  —  Wendell 
Phillips,  —  who  gave  me  many  a  kind  and  helpful  word. 
Meeting  him  on  a  journey,  and  speaking  of  my  lack  of  edu- 
cation and  how  much  I  felt  it,  he  said  in  cordial  tones,  "  Why, 
any  scholar  who  hears  you  perceives  at  once  your  lack  of 
educational  training,  so  called,"  and  then  added  with  a  smile, 
"  But  perhaps  the  world  is  all  the  better  for  that." 

Thus  encouraged,  and  for  reasons  before  stated,  I  offer 
this  quiver  of  unpolished  arrows  in  the  hope  that  they  may 
accomplish  more  in  right  and  desirable  directions  than  they 
could  in  any  previous  fragmentary  appearance ;  only  adding 
that  though  there  must  of  necessity  be  repetition  in  the 
arguments,  there  is  no  repetition  in  the  facts  or  incidents. 


jhom  Original  IBestgns  Urafon  cxprowlg  for  tfjis  foorfc  63  jf.  ©.  OE. 
®Z£nt.  1L.  &IjfppartJ,  anti  2T.  35E.  SHStlliamg. 


1.  PORTRAIT  OF  JOHN"  B.  GOUGH.    ENGRAVED  ON 

STEEL, Frontispiece 

Engraved  expressly  for  this  work  from  the  original  life-size  painting  by 
Sir  DANIEL  MACNEE/R.S.A.,  presented  to  Mrs.  GOUGH  by  the  Directors  of 
the  Scottish  Temperance  League,  May  22, 1855.  Engraved  in  pure  line  and 
stipple  by  Mr.  J.  J.  CADE,  New  York. 

2.  ILLUSTRATED   TITLE-PAGE  (Full  Page.) 

DESIGNED  BY  F.  O.  C.  DABLEY    ....     To  face  frontispiece 

Showing  the  beginning,  middle,  and  end  of  a  drunkard's  career,  and  the 
peaceful  old  age  of  temperate  and  virtuous  lives.  1,  The  Beginning  —  a  con- 
vivial party  of  young  men.  2,  The  Middle  —  the  horrors  of  delirium  tremens. 
3,  The  End — death  in  the  gutter.  4,  The  happy  old  age  of  well-spent  lives. 
The  page  presents  a  powerful  contrast  between  two  sides  of  life,  one  showing 
the  reward  of  temperance  and  virtue,  the  other  the  results  of  intemperance 
and  sin. 

PAGE 

3.  ORNAMENTAL  HEADING  TO  PREFACE 5 

4.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 5 

5.  ENGRAVED  AUTOGRAPH  OF  JOHN  B.  GOUGH 6 

6.  ORNAMENTAL  HEADING  TO  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  ....  7 

7.  ORNAMENTAL  HEADING  TO  CONTENTS 15 

8.  SOUTH  VIEW  OF  MR.  GOUGH'S  RESIDENCE 28 

9.  ORNAMENTAL  HEADING  TO   REV.  LYMAN  ABBOTT'S   INTRO-  29 

DUCTION 29 

10.  ORNAMENTAL   INITIAL   LETTER,    SHOWING  THE  WORCESTER 

VASE  MADE  AND  PRESENTED  TO  MR.  GOUGH  IN  ENGLAND,  29 

11.  ENGRAVED  AUTOGRAPH  OF  REV.  LYMAN  ABBOTT 72 

12.  " HILLSIDE" — RESIDENCE  OF  JOHN  B.  GOUGH 14 

13.  ORNAMENTAL  HEADING 71 

14.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 71 

15.  VICTIMS  OF  HABIT 73 

16.  A  MAN  WE  OFTEN  MEET 75 

17.  STYLE  FORTY  YEARS  AGO 77 

18.  SCENE  OF  THE  WRECK 78 

19.  THE  BOY  WHO  SWORE  BY  OLD  DAN  TUCKER     ......  81 

vii 


viii  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

20.  MEMORIES  OF  THE  PAST 85 

21.  "COME  DOWN  WID  YE,  THADY  " 88 

22.  A"DESAVIN'  CRATUR" 89 

23.  LOWER  HALL  IN  MR.  GOUGH'S  HOUSE 92 

24.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 93 

25.  ON  THE  BRINK 96 

26.  THE  RESULT  OF  SMELLING  'ROUND 98 

27.  WEBSTER  PLEADING  WITH  HIS  CLASSMATE 100 

28.  ''GET  UP!  GET  UP!  THE  TRAIN  is  COMING!" 101 

29.  THE  CAT'S  PLEDGE 103 

30.  "No!  You  HAVE  DECEIVED  ME!" J04 

31.  "Now,  ADAM" 105 

32.  ADAM'S  RETURN lt)6 

33.  ADAM'S  EXIT  FROM  THE  CLOSET 107 

34.  THE  DEATH  OF  TOM.     (Pull  Page.)    DESIGNED  BY  F.  O. 

C.  DARLEY To  face  110 

"  Too  late,  Jem.  Don't  leave  me  ;  don't  leave  me  !  Oh,  it  is  getting 
dark;  it  is  getting  dark."  Straightening  himself  up,  while  convulsions  shook 
his  frame,  he  said,  "  This  is  the  last  act  of  the  play  that  is  played  out,"  and  he 
fell  back  dead. 

35.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 113 

36.  Too  PERSONAL 115 

37.  A  SURPRISE  TO  BOTH  DUELLISTS 116 

38.  THE  MAN  WHO  DRINKS  BECAUSE  HE  is  COLD 122 

39.  THE  MAN  WHO  DRINKS  BECAUSE  HE  is  HOT 123 

40.  "  DE  DEBBIL  SAYS,  '  TAKE  'EM '" 125 

41.  THE  "FEARFUL  EXAMPLE" 126 

42.  A  DREADFUL  THREAT 128 

43.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 131 

44.  "SIR!  SIR!  THE  HOUSE  is  ON  FIRE!" 133 

45.  A  SHILLING  SHORT 136 

46.  A  "Fo'  DAYS'  MEETING" 138 

47.  A  PUZZLED  FRENCHMAN 144 

48.  BETSY  JONES 145 

49.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 148 

50.  THE  LITTLE  PHILANTHROPIST 150 

51.  A  BRUTE  IN  HUMAN  FORM 151 

52.  TRANSFIXED  WITH  HORROR 156 

53.  THANKFUL  FOR  SMALL  FAVORS 161 

54.  "THE  DEN  I  WAS  BURROWIN'  IN" 164 

55.  CUTTING  A  DASH 165 

56.  DRIVEN  OUT  INTO  THE  STORM 166 

57.  THE   MINER   AND   HIS    CONVERTS.      A   REMARKABLE 

SCENE.     (Full  Page.)     DESIGNED  BY  F.  O.  C.  DARLEY. 

To  face  169 

"I  say,  Dick!  Dick  is  coming,  Dick  is  coming!  Tom.  Tom,  look  here! 
Ah,  that 's  right,  Tom.  Now,  lads,  follow  a  good  example/'  And  fifty-eight 
men  came  tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  on  the  platform.  They  seized  the  pen  as  if 
it  were  a  pen  of  iron,  and  wrote  as  if  t?iey  were  graving  their  names  into  stone. 
That  man  did  more  work  in  ten  minutes  than  I  could  do  in  ten  hours. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


IX 


58.  ORNAMENTAL,  INITIAL,  LETTER 170 

59.  I   TAKE   IT   "AS   A  MEDICINE" 172 

60.  OLD  MIXEM'S  CURE  ALL 177 

61.  "LET  HER  SLIDE" 180 

62.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER  .     . 184 

63.  "Go  BACK,  BACK  TO  HER,  I  SAY" 186 

64.  A  FATAL   LEAP.      (Full  Page.)     DESIGNED  BY  F.  O.  C. 

DARLEY To  face  188 

His  face  was  pale  as  ashes.  He  clenched  his  fingers  as  if  he  would  press  the 
nails  into  the  flesh,  his  lip  curled  over  his  white  teeth  in  the  agonies  of  death, 
and  his  eyes  glared  upon  his  companions  with  the  ferocity  of  a  tiger  as  he  said, 
"  Oh,  why  did  you  not  hold  me  ?  "  Why  did  they  not  hold  him  ?  It  was  too 
late;  the  demon  of  drink  had  full  possession  of  him,  and  no  mortal  power 
could  have  held  him  then. 

65.  SAVING  A  HUSBAND  FROM  DISGRACE 191 

66.  JUST  SAVED! 197 

67.  "On,  MY  GOODNESS!" 200 

68.  A  DISAGREEABLE  NEIGHBOR 203 

69.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 206 

70.  "I  SOT,  AND  SOT"      .    . 210 

71.  MR.  LONG'S  ACCUSER 212 

72.  MR.  LONG 212 

73.  THE  PRISON  VISITORS 217 

74.  A  UNANIMOUS  VOTE 218 

75.  LOVE'S  TEST.  —  THE  MEN  WHO  JUMPED 220 

76.  THE  MAN  WHO  DID  NOT  JUMP 220 

77.  As  SHE  WAS,  AND  AS  SHE  Is 223 

78.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 226 

79.  "THE  STRANDS  BEGAN  TO  SNAP" 228 

80.  THE  PHYSICIAN'S  DISCOVERY 233 

81.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 239 

82.  "  AINT  IT  QUEER  ?" 241 

83.  "I'LL  NOT  BE  OUTDONE  BY  MY  Boy" 245 

84.  A  PEEP  OVER  THE  FENCE 248 

85.  REST  AT  LAST.     (Full  Page.)    DESIGNED  BY  F.  O.  C.  DAR- 

LEY     To  face  252 

Bruised,  battered,  forlorn,  friendless,  motherless,  hiding  from  an  infuriated 
father,  he  had  a  little  hymn  to  sing.  .  .  .  The  gentleman  hurried  away  for  re- 
storatives and  help,  came  back  again  in  less  than  two  hours,  and  climbed  the 
ladder.  There  were  the  chips,  there  were  the  shavings,  and  there  was  the  little 
motherless  boy,  with  one  hand  by  his  side  and  the  other  tucked  in  his  bosom 
—  dead. 

86.  ORNAMENTAL,  INITIAL  LETTER 256 

87.  "DRINK'S  MY  CURSE" 260 

88.  "You  KNOW  WHO  I  AM" 261 

89.  STIMULUS 267 

90.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 270 

91.  "WHAT  A  FOOL  I  AM" 271 

92.  "MARY,  MARY,  I'VE  SIGNED  THE  PLEDGE" 275 

93.  "IT  CAME  NEARER  AND  NEARER" 276 

94.  "WASHED  ASHORE,  AND  FRIZ  TO  DEATH" .    .  279 


X  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

95.  A  RAG  SHOW 282 

96.  A  TEACHER  TAUGHT 283 

97.  A    DRUNKEN    FIDDLER   AND    HIS    AUDIENCE.       (Full 

Page.)    DESIGNED  BY  T.  W.  WILLIAMS    ....  To  face    284 

Opposite  a  grog-shop,  in  a  certain  town,  you  might  have  seen  a  drivelling, 
idiotic  drunkard  seated  upon  a  box,  with  a  slouched  hat  drawn  over  his  eyes, 
and  a  fiddle  in  his  hand,  attempting  to  scrape  out  such  music  as  would  please 
the  company  of  inebriates  that  surrounded  him ;  and  they,  in  turn,  attempting 
to  shuffle  and  dance,  paying  the  miserable  music-maker  his  wages  in  rum. 
This  was  the  man  and  his  employment  in  1840.  That  man  signed  the  pledge, 
and  in  three  years  he  was  a  representative  in  Congress. 

98.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 290 

99.  "I  AM  NOT  MAD" 293 

100.  A  REMARKABLE  HORSE 297 

101.  THE  MISER  OF  MARSEILLES 301 

102.  THE  PHILOSOPHER  AND  THE  CALF'S  TAIL 303 

103.  THE  BIG  BOY  AND  LITTLE  DICKEY  TILTON 304 

104.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 308 

105.  LIFE  IN  A  RAILWAY  CAR 311 

106.  ONLY  ONE  COULD  BE  SAVED 315 

107.  FRENCH  CHAMPAGNE  MADE  IN  NEW  JERSEY 317 

108.  "  WELL,  IT'S  RATHER  DRY  " 321 

109.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 323 

110.  "WHAT  FOR  DO  HE  SAY  ZAT  OF  MY  COUNTRY?" 329 

111.  THE  NEGRO  AND  THE  DUDE 333 

112.  "HATS  OFF" 336 

113.  BETTY   AND    THE    BEAR.      THE   HUSBAND'S  ADVICE 

FROM  A  SAFE  RETREAT.     (Full  Page.)    DESIGNED  BY 

F.  O.  C.  DARLEY To  face    338 

As  the  fight  went  on,  he  became  excited.  By  and  by  he  began  to  encour- 
age her,  and  shouted,  "  Well  done,  Betty  !  That  was  a  good  knock.  Now 
take  him  on  the  other  side,"  and  so  on,  till  Betty  hit  the  final  blow  and  the 
bear  gave  a  final  kick.  And  then  the  husband  came  down  from  his  safe 
retreat.  "  Well,  that 's  a  bigger  bear  than  I  thought  it  was,  Betty,  and  I 
consider  we  have  done  gloriously."  When  the  work  is  done,  "  we,"  and  when 
the  work  is  to  be  done,  "  you." 

114.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 342 

115.  ONE  OF  MY  LISTENERS 346 

116.  DESPAIR 348 

117.  "On!  IT  is  COMING,  DOCTOR" 353 

118.  ONLY  JUST  A  SPOONFUL 354 

119.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 358 

120.  "I  CAN  SEE  YOU  WITH  THE  NAKED  HYE " 359 

121.  A  TRAINING-SCHOOL  OF  CRIME 360 

122.  "BOOTS!  BOOTS!"  MY  FLIGHT  FROM  LONDON  STREET 

BOYS.  (Full  Page.)  DESIGNED  BY  W.  L.  SHEPPARD.  To  face    362 

I  went  up  Drury  Lane  all  right,  but  when  I  passed  into  White  Hart  Street 
I  heard  the  cry  of  "  Boots!  Boots!  "  And  soon  from  every  window,  doorway, 
and  alley  seemed  to  come  the  cry  of  "  Boots!  Boots!  "  So  I  began  to  quicken 
my  steps,  and  I  heard  the  youngsters  quickening  theirs  after  me.  Soon  they 
swarmed  on  every  side  of  me.  J  ran,  they  ran.  Tbey  pelted  me  with  pota- 
toes and  carrots,  etc. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  xi 

123.  A  NAUGHTY  PAIR 365 

124.  A  DISCOVERY 365 

125.  ADVERSITY 370 

126.  DEAD.      THE    LITTLE    HAND    HELD    UP    FOR    JESUS. 

( Full  Page. )    DESIGNED  BY  F.  O.  C.  DARLEY  .    .  To  face    370 

"  But,  I  say,  Bobby,  you  can  hold  your  hand  up,  and  if  he  should  come 
round  and  see  your  hand  up,  he  'd  know  you  wos  arter  something.  He  held 
his  hand  up,  but  it  dropped.  He  held  it  up  again,  and  it  dropped.  He  held 
it  up  the  third  time,  and  as  it  dropped  he  burst  out  crying,  and  said,  "  I  '11 
give  it  up,  I  can't  hold  my  hand  up  no  longer."  "  Bobby,  I  don't  want  my 
pillow.  You  let  me  prop  your  elbow  up  with  it."  And  the  child  — whom, 
perhaps,  you  would  sweep  off  your  doorstep,  or  turn  away  from  with  disgust 
—  took  his  own  hospital  pillow,  and,  placing  it  under  the  elbow  of  his  sick 
companion,  propped  up  his  arm.  In  the  morning  the  little  fellow  lay  dead, 
with  his  hand  held  up  for  Jesus. 

127.  PROSPERITY 373 

128.  DOOMED  —  THE  BURNING  SHIP  IN  MID-OCEAN 375 

129.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 377 

130.  TELL-TALE  SHOES 379 

131.  ANTHONY  BURNS,  THE  FUGITIVE  SLAVE 381 

132.  NOT  A  CIRCULATING  LIBRARY 383 

133.  SEVENTEEN  MILES  "WID  DAT  Hoss" 385 

134.  EXPLAINING  "DE  'LECTRIC  TELEGRAPH" 388 

135.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER • 390 

136.  A  THIN-SKINNED  MAN 391 

137.  TEMPTATION  RESISTED 393 

138.  A  DOOR  TO  RUIN 394 

139.  SAD  FATE  OP  ONE  OF  MY  COMPANIONS 395 

140.  FOUND  DEAD  AMONG  THE  RUSHES 398 

141.  A  FRIGHTFUL  VISION 400 

142.  "  HE  GRIPS  THE  GLASS  AGAIN  " 402 

143.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 407 

144.  A  HAND  STAINED  WITH  BLOOD 411 

145.  A  "  HINDEWIDUAL  " 413 

146.  THE    OLD    BREWERY    AND    ITS    NEIGHBORHOOD    AT 

THE    FIVE    POINTS,    NEW    YORK.     As    IT    APPEARED 

PREVIOUS    TO    BEING    DEMOLISHED   BY   THE    LADIES'    HOME 

MISSIONARY  SOCIETY  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH.  (Pull  Page.) 
Accurately  restored  by  T.  W.  WILLIAMS  from  an  old  sketch 
now  in  possession  of  THE  FIVE  POINTS  MISSION  .  .  To  face  419 

1,  Murderer's  Alley,  a  narrow,  dark  passage,  148  feet  long.  2,  The  prin- 
cipal groggery.  3,  Entrance  to  a  Den  of  Thieves ;  a  long,  narrow  passage, 
2M  feet  wide,  and  "  dark  as  midnight."  4,  Door  connecting  with  Drunken 
Alley  and  the  Den  of  Thieves.  5,  Another  entrance  to  the  Den  of  Thieves. 
6,  Door  leading  to  a  gambling  area,  or  yard  in  the  rear. 

147.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 423 

148.  "THE  LITTLE  CHAP  THAT  TOLD  ME  TO  HOLLER"     ....  424 

149.  His  MONEY'S  WORTH  OF  CLOTHES 426 

150.  AN  UNEXPECTED  CATASTROPHE 430 

151.  AN  AWFUL  PITCH  OVER 431 

152.  HA,  HA  ! 432 

153.  AN  EXCITING  RIDE  IN  CALIFORNIA   .  .     .  438 


xii  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

154.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL,  LETTER 441 

155.  "SHALL  I  PRAY  WITH  You?" 443 

156.  MY  AUDIENCE  OF  OUTCASTS : 444 

157.  "I  WONDER  WHERE  MY  BOY  Is" 446 

158.  A  DESPERATE  STRUGGLE 447 

159.  A  MOMENT  OF  DANGER 449 

160.  MEMORIES  OF  MY  YOUTHFUL  DAYS 452 

161.  "SHE  BURST  OUT  CRYING  AND  DROPPED  ON  HER  KNEES"   .  453 

162.  A   MINISTER'S    DOWNFALL.  —  PREACHING     HIS     OLD 

SERMONS    FOR   LIQUOR.     (Full  Page.)    DESIGNED  BY 
GEORGE  G.  WHITE To  face    457 

And  that  doctor  of  divinity,  who  had  preached  the  gospel  to  thousands 
for  eight  and  twenty  years,  has  since  stood  in  a  low  dram-shop,  with  his 
face  bruised  and  blackened,  and  a  number  of  degraded  and  dissolute  men  jeer- 
ing him,  —  stood  there  and  preached  his  old  sermons  for  whiskey  to  stave  of 
delirium  tremens. 

163.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 461 

164.  JULIUS  CAESAR'S  DOWNFALL 465 

165.  INTERRUPTING  A  FAMILY  Row 466 

166.  ELECTED  CONSTABLE— "FATHER  AND  ME." 468 

167.  " UNPERCEIVED,  HE  OPENED  THE  CABIN  DOOR" 472 

168.  NOT  A  FRIEND  IN  THE  WORLD 476 

169.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 478 

170.  "THERE'S  MOTHER" 483 

171.  "IT  SEEMS  BUT  YESTERDAY" 485 

172.  AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  SENATOR  McCONNELL  SIX  DAYS 

BEFORE  HIS  DEATH.     (Full  Page.)    DESIGNED  BY  F.  O. 

C.  DARLEY To  face    488 

He  had  a  cane  in  his  hand,  and  on  the  top  was  engraven,  "  Felix  G.  McCon- 
nell,  Alabama.  O  God,  have  mercy  on  me."  ...  I  shall  never  forget  how  he 
suddenly  sprang  to  his  feet,  and,  throwing  his  cane  on  the  floor  with  a  loud 
crash,  said,  "  Gentlemen,  you  ask  me  to  give  up  the  drink.  Ask  me  to  sever 
my  right  hand  from  the  wrist,  and  I  can  do  it ;  but  to  give  up  the  drink  — 
NEVER  !  "  Six  days  after  that  he  cut  himself  all  to  pieces  with  a  bowie  knife, 
in  the  St.  Charles  Hotel.  That  was  his  end. 

173.  AT  HOME. —FIRESIDE  THOUGHTS 493 

174.  AT  SEA.  —  TEMPEST-TOSSED ."    .  493 

175.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 496 

176.  "GiEMEADRAM" 498 

177.  "I'VE  GOT  A  TERRIBLE  BUNCH  ON  MY  SIDE" 501 

178.  THE  BUNCH 501 

179.  A  DINNER  ON  THE  SLY 502 

180.  AN  INEFFECTUAL  APPEAL 504 

181.  A  MEMORABLE  VICTORY.     (Full  Page.)    DESIGNED  BY  F. 

O.  C.  DARLEY To  face    507 

Coming  up  the  hill  on  my  return  to  the  hall,  a  man  in  the  wagon  in  front 
of  us  stopped,  stood  up,  and  cried,  "Halt,  halt!  Look  at  the  grog-shops 
closed  at  sundown.  Thirty-five  years  I  've  lived  in  this  town  and  I  never 
saw  a  sight  like  that.  I  've  seen  drunkards  go  in  at  one  door  as  a  funeral 
started  from  the  other.  Three  cheers  for  cold  water."  We  gave  the  cheers, 
and  the  ex-dramsellers  came  out  and  helped  us. 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  xiii 

182.  DRUNKEN  JAKE 508 

183.  A  SUDDEN  INVASION 511 

184.  IN  FRONT  OF  THE  TAVERN 513 

185.  "LOOK!   LOOK!   THE  PRAIRIE  is  ON  FIRE" 517 

186.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 518 

187.  "DON'T  PUT  ME  OUT,  I'M  A  TEETOTALER" 522 

188.  THE  PAST  — TUESDAY  NIGHT,  OCT.,  1842 525 

189.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 528 

190.  JOE 531 

191.  ONE  YEAR  AFTERWARDS 531 

192.  "YOU'RE  COMING  AGAIN,  ARE  YOU?" 534 

193.  A    TIMELY    RESCUE.      A    MEMORABLE    INCIDENT    IN 

MY   CAREER.      (Full  Page.)     DESIGNED  BY  T.  W.  WIL- 
LIAMS  To  face    536 

She  was  very  drunk.  The  young  men  were  pushing  her  about  in  the 
rudest  manner.  One  would  push  her  one  way,  and  another  the  other.  I  said, 
"  Do  you  call  it  sport  to  push  that  helpless  girl  about  like  that  ?  "  Somebody 
said,  "  That's  Gough."  I  said,  "  Yes,  that  is  my  name."  They  allowed  me  to 
approach  the  girl,  who  was  swaying  to  and  fro,  — she  could  not  stand  still,— 
and  was  crying  bitterly,  uttering  that  wail  pitiful  to  hear  from  an  animal,  but 
far  more  pitiful  to  hear  from  a  woman.  I  said,  "  Where  do  you  live  ?  "  etc. 

194.  AN  UNWELCOME  GUEST '.    .  543 

195.  "HUM  —  SIGNED  ELIZABETH" 545 

196.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 548 

197.  A  WRETCHED  WRECK 552 

198.  A  SUSPICIOUS  PLACE  TO  PASS  THE  NIGHT 553 

199.  AN  UNEXPECTED  PROCEEDING 554 

200.  "I  DON'T  WANT  TO  GET  UP" v  .    .  555 

201.  DEATH  STARED  THEM  IN  THE  FACE 557 

202.  DADDY  MOSES  AND  DICK 560 

203.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 562 

204.  "I  — DON'T— KNOW" 566 

205.  AN  UNWILLING  BRIDEGROOM s  .    .  571 

206.  STRUCK  BOTTOM 574 

207.  "HURRY  UP,  I'M  ALL  UNRAVELLING!" 575 

208.  A  "LIMPSY"  COUPLE.     SANDY  AND  THE  LAIRD.    (Full 

Page.)    DESIGNED  BY  F.  O.  C.  DARLEY To  face    576 

Sandy  helped  the  laird  on  the  horse,  but  unfortunately  he  was  this  time 
mounted  the  wrong  side  before.  "  Now,  Sandy,  gie  me  the  bridle  ;  gie  me 
the  bridle,  Sandy."  "  Wait  till  I  find  the  bridle.  There  is  na  any  bridle, 
and  there  is  na  any  place  for  a  bridle,"  said  Sandy.  "  Gie  me  the  bridle, 
Sandy;  I  must  hae  one  to  steer  the  beast  AVI,"  exclaimed  the  laird.  "  Ah, 
laird,"  replied  Sandy,  "  here  's  a  miracle.  The  horse's  head 's  aff,  an'  I  can- 
na  find  the  place  where  it  was,  and  there  's  naething  left  but  a  long  piece  o' 
his  mane." 

209.  FOR  LIFE 580 

210.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 582 

211.  AN  OBLIGING  HUSBAND 584 

212.  TWO  O'CLOCK  IN  THE  MORNING.      "  ISH  IT  THE  SUN,  OR  ISH 

IT  THE  MOON?" 587 

213.  "On,  SANDY,  I'M  HAVIN'  AN  AWFU'  TUMBLE!" 593 

214.  "  I  WILL  FIGHT  You "  ,    .    .    .    594 


XIV 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


215.  A  TOUGH  PATIENT 595 

216.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 597 

217.  A  TRUTHFUL  SIGNBOARD 598 

218.  ON  EXHIBITION 599 

219.  A  TERRIBLE  REALITY 605 

220.  "YOU  SAY  DAT  AGAIN,   NlGGERl" 611 

221.  "JOHN,  COME  HOME,  THE  FIRE  is  BURNING  BRIGHTLY"   .    .    613 

222.  ORNAMENTAL  INITIAL  LETTER 617 

223.  THE  CAUSE  OF  LONDON  WANT  AND  WOE.    SATURDAY 

NIGHT  IN  A  LONDON  BAR-ROOM.     (Full  Page.)    DE- 
SIGNED BY  W.  L.  SHEPPARD To  face    622 

I  saw  women  go  in,  with  babes  in  their  arms  looking  as  if  they  had  been 
born  to  suffer  and  gasp  and  die  —  poor,  pallid,  rheum-eyed  wretches,  drinking 
their  liquor.  I  saw  little  bundles  of  rags  standing  on  tip-toe  to  put  the  money 
on  the  counter,  and  receiving  whiskey  in  exchange.  One  little  girl  had  but 
one  garment  on  her,  but  she  had  her  bottle  filled  and  took  it  away.  I  saw 
everything  from  a  blacking-bottle  to  a  tin  pail,  brought  there  to  be  filled 
with  liquor. 

224.  A  PETTIFOGGING  SHYSTER 626 

225.  EXHAUSTED  PATIENCE 628 

226.  THE  JURYMEN  —  TEN  OF  WHOM  ATE  THE  BACON 631 

227.  "On,  BUY  ME  A  BIT  OF  BREAD,  FOR  I  AM  HUNGRY"    .    .    .  634 


"HILLSIDE "—RESIDENCE  OF  THE  LATE  JOHN  B.   GOUGH, 


CHAPTER  I. 

HABIT  — ITS  POWER,  USE,   AND  ABUSE -HOW  TO  SUBDUE  A 
TYRANT  AND  SECURE   A  FRIEND. 

What  I  Aim  to  Give  — The  Lessons  of  Experience  — A  Peculiar  Clock  — 
"What  on  Earth  Will  That  Fellow  Do  Next?"  — "  Oh,  I  Bite  My 
Nails!"— Ridiculous  Habits  — Scene  at  a  Railway  Ticket-office  —  Mem- 
ory—Recognizing  a  Deserter  After  Thirty  Years  — Slaves  of  Fashion  — 
Description  of  the  Suit  I  Wore  at  Twenty-one  —  The  "  Style  "  Forty  Years 
Ago — A  Stunning  Attire — A  Remarkable  Inventory  —  Avarice  —  "  Only 
a  Little  More  "  —  The  Vice  of  Lying  —  The  Habit  of  Swearing— The  Boy 
Who  Swore  by  " Old  Dan  Tucker"  —  "  I 'm  Sot,  Yes,  I 'm  Sot"  —Daniel 
Webster's  Testimony  —  Two  Words  Spoken  in  Season  —  Ruin  and  Re- 
morse—  "By  and  By"  —  A  Persistent  Lover  —  A  Narrow  Escape  — 
"  Come  Down  Wid  Ye,  Thady  "  —  The  Warfare  of  Life  ....  71 


CHAPTER  II. 

TO  YOUNG  MEN  — SOWING  THE  WIND  AND  REAPING  THE 
WHIRLWIND— A  TALE  OF  RUIN,  REMORSE,  AND  DEATH. 

Sticking  One's  Hand  in  a  Rattlesnake's  Den  —  Beware  !  —  "  Captain,  There 's 
One  of  'Em"— Sowing  Wild  Oats  — Gliding  Down  the  Stream  — "Be 
You  a  Drugger?" — The  Yerdant  Young  Man  in  Search  of  "Scentin' 
Stuff  "—  Smelling  Round  for  the  Right  Thing  —  A  Sniff  That  Astonished 
Him  — The  Story  of  Daniel  Webster's  Classmate  —  How  Webster  Tried 
to  Save  Him  — His  Tragic  Death  — "Get  Up  !  Get  Up  !  The  Train  is 
Coming  !"— Cries  of  Despair  from  the  Pit  — A  Road  Strewn  with 
Spectres  —  The  Most  Painful  Scene  I  Ever  Witnessed  —  Why  the  Boy 
Thrashed  the  Cat  —  A  Cold  Day  for  Puss  —  An  Unexpected  Scene  at 
the  Marriage  Altar  — The  Story  of  Adam  and  His  Whiskey  Jug  — 
Cramming  Adam  into  the  Closet — A  Laughable  Story  —  A  Story  of 
Ruin  and  Death  — "Tom,  Old  Fellow,  is  This  You?"  — "Too  Late, 
Jem,  Don't  Leave  Me"— Taking  the  Wrong  Direction.  .  .  9o 

xv 


xvi  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   III. 

FRIEND    OR    FOE? -THE    DIVIDING    LINE  — WHERE    DO    YOU 
STAND?  — SLAVES   OF  FASHION  —  LUDICROUS   INCIDENTS. 

The  Word  "  But "  —  Popping  the  Question  —  Anecdote  of  Dr.  Lawson  —  A 
Slim  Congregation  —  A  Sermon  That  Was  "Too  Personal"  —  How 
Mrs.  Remington  Stood  It  —  A  Duel  in  the  Dark  —  Retreating  Up  the 
Chimney  —  A  Surprise  to  Both  Parties  —  Giving  a  Reason  —  Defining 
Men's  Position  —  "  Three  Cheers  for  Elder  Gray  "  —  The  Bank  Cashier's 
Story  —  The  Reason  Why  —  Comical  Excuses  for  Drinking  —  Grounds 
for  Suspicion  —  Letting  Down  the  Bars  — An  Ugly  Threat  —  Catching 
the  Measles  —  Drinking  in  Society  —  Sipping  in  " Style"  —  Fashionable 
Dissipation  —  Silly  Customs  —  A  Ludicrous  Picture  —  The  Dutchman  and 
His  Lost  "Poy"  —  Story  of  the  Tempted  Negro  — A  Coveted  Pair  of 
Boots  —  "  The  Devil  Says  Take  'Em"  —Queer  Ideas  of  Faith -^-  "  Good- 
ness Gracious  !  Has  It  Come  to  That  ?  "  —  Funny  Incidents  —  Forward  — 
God  Speed  the  Right 113 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BLUNDERS,    COMICAL,    CURIOUS,    SERIOUS,     AND    CRIMINAL, 
AND  PEOPLE  WHO   MAKE   THEM  — FUNNY  STORIES. 

Various  Sources  of  Blunders  —  Heading  a  Boy  in  a  Barrel  —  Absent-minded 
People  —  Anecdote  of  Dr.  Duncan  —  Amusing  Incidents  —  Ministerial 
Blunders  — The  "Pibrock  and  the  Slogan"  — The  "Coisoned  Pup"  — 
Laughable  Mistakes  —  Blunders  of  the  Past  —  Blunders  of  Society  —  Irish 
Bulls  —  Killing  a  Man  Twice—  The  "Red  Cow"  — Common  Errors  — 
Misuse  of  Words  —  Blunders  in  Language  — A  Musician  with  Carved 
Legs  —  Religious  Horses  —  Human  Parasites  —  The  Curse  of  Mormonism— 
Serious  Blunders  —  Sowing  Dragon's  Teeth— Office  Seekers— How  to 
Secure  Honest  Legislation  —  Curious  Blunders  in  Literature  —  Sacrificing 
Sense  to  Rhyme  —  The  Lawyer  and  the  Sailor  —  Neatly  Caught  —  Funny 
Blunders  —  A  Viper  with  Feet  —  "  No.  45,  Stick  No  Bills  "—  "  Let  Her 
Drop"  —  Moulting  Angels  —  Take  Your  Soundings  —The  Prodigal 
Son  .  131 


CHAPTER    V. 

RETRIBUTION— PLAIN  TALK  AND  PLAINER  FACTS  — REMI- 
NISCENCES OF  MY  DARK  DAYS  —  DELIRIUM  TREMENS. 

Plain  Talk  to  a  Scotch  Audience  —  Street  Sights  and  Scenes  After  Dark  — 
Wretchedness  and  Woe  — "Jem,  Is  My  John  in  There?"— A  Poor 
Woman's  Plea  —  A  Cowardly  and  Brutal  Husband  —  Incident  After  Inci- 
dent—What I  Saw  on  One  of  My  Exploring  Expeditions  —  Personal 


CONTENTS. 

Experiences  —  Scenes  I  Have  Witnessed  —  Their  Effect  Upon  Me  — 
Memories  of  My  Days  of  Dissipation  —  A  Terrible  Picture  of  Delirium 
Tremens  —  A  Victim's  Testimony  —  Peculiarities  of  the  Disease  —  A 
Horrible  Experience  —  Transfixed  With  Terror  —  My  Own  Experience  — 
Civility  and  Incivility  —  How  I  Was  Snubbed  in  Church  —  Reminiscences 
of  My  Dark  Days  —  A  Reckless  Act  —  The  Drunkard's  Sleep  —  Memory  a 
Curse  —  A  Forgiving  Wife  —  The  Hardest  Audience  I  Ever  Faced  —  I  Am 
Discouraged  —  The  Miner  Who  Spoke  After  Me  — His  Wonderful 
Speech  —  Tramp,  Tramp,  Tramp  —  Buckle  On  the  Armor  .  .  .  148 


CHAPTER  VI. 

'AS    A  MEDICINE"— A   FAIR  NAME  FOR  A  FOUL  THING  — A 
PRECIOUS  SCOUNDREL  WITH  A  PIOUS  FACE. 

Fault  Finders  -r-  A  Tippling  LL.D.  —  A  Cheese  Argument  —  Scene  at  a 
Dinner  Party  —  Drink  as  a  Medicine  —  Doctors  Who  Prescribe  Liquor  — 
A  Good  Deal  and  Often  —  Effects  of  Alcohol  on  the  Nervous  System  — 
Testimony  of  Two  Thousand  Physicians  —  A  Distinguished  Physician's 
Opinion  —  Diseases  Produced  by  Alcohol  —  Personal  Experience  of  an 
Eminent  Surgeon  —  My  Own  Experience  —  An  Exceedingly  Suspicious 
Mixture  —  A  Compound  Fearfully  and  Wonderfully  Made  —  Extraordi- 
nary Prescriptions  —  Mrs.  McCarthy's  "Noggin  of  Rum" — How  the 
Upholsterer  Got  Even  with  the  Doctor  —  A  Good  Story  —  Anecdote  of 
Rev.  Mr.  Reid  —  "  Ask  My  Doctor  ?  "  —  Sticking  to  the  Same  Remedy  for 
Seven  Years  —  An  Offer  to  Loan  a  Thousand  Dollars  —  Chasing  a 
Bubble  —  My  Visit  to  Werner's  Room  —  A  Delightful  Afternoon  —  A 
Musical  Feast 170 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SAFETY    BETTER    THAN    RISK  —  TOUCHING    HOME-SCENES  — 
STARTLING  FACTS  AND  UNDISPUTED   TESTIMONY. 

Human  Sacrifices  —  A  Mother's  Sad  Story  —  Turning  a  Dissipated  Son  out 
of  Doors  —  My  Interview  with  Him  —  On  the  Edge  of  a  Precipice  —  A 
Thrilling  Incident  —  Mad  With  Delirium  Tremens  —  A  Fearful  Leap  —  A 
Devoted  Wife  — A  Story  from  Real  Life  — That  Little  Word  "No"  — 
The  Yankee  Merchant  and  his  Eggs  —  A  Laughable  Story  —  Startling 
Facts  —  The  Greatest  Swindle  of  the  Age  —  What  I  saw  in  a  Distillery  — 
Effect  of  Liquor  on  Animals  —  How  it  Affects  the  Human  Body  —  A 
Most  Extraordinary  Story  —  A  Physician's  Horrible  Experiments  —  A 
Corpse  Distended  with  Liquor  Gas  —  Puncturing  the  Body  and  Lighting 
the  Gas  in  Sixteen  Places  —  Authentic  and  Undisputed  Testimony  —  The 
Child's  Rescue  —  A  Thrilling  Scene  —  A  Very  Obstinate  Deacon  —  A 
Funny  Story  —  The  Dutchman  and  His  Setting  Hen  —  Record  of  a  Noble 
Woman  —  My  Disagreeable  Neighbor .184 


xviii  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

FACT  AND  FICTION  OF  EVERYDAY  LIFE  —  SMILING  FACES 
AND  TREACHEROUS  HEARTS  — MEN  WHO  WEAR  MASKS. 

Variety  the  Spice  of  Life  —  Difficult  Things  for  Me  to  do  —  What  I  Aim  to 
do  —  Life  often  a  Disguise  —  Snakes  in  the  Grass  —  Men  Who  Wear 
Masks  —  Duels,  Debts,  and  "Innocent  Amusements"  —  A  Persistent 
Collector  —  "  I  '11  Fix  Ye  "  —  The  Boy  and  the  Cherry  Pie  —  Absurd  Sen- 
tences —  Amusing  Illustrations  —  White  Lies  —  Story  of  a  Minister,  a 
Bull,  and  a  Bass  Viol  —  A  Matter-of-fact  Musician  —  The  Old  Lady  who 
was  Struck  by  Lightning — Loving  "  Everyting  zat  is  Beastly  "  —  Woman's 
Rights  —  A  Vision  of  Eden  —  "  Bridge !  Bridge ! ! "  —  An  Animated  Poli- 
tical Discussion  —  Its  Sudden  End  —  A  Laughable  Story  —  A  Cool  Boarder 
—  His  Opinion  of  His  Landlady's  Butter — Choosing  Between  Three 
Lovers  —  The  Captain's  Device  —  How  it  Worked — Wasted  Lives  — 
Human  Wrecks  —  Real  Heroes 206 


CHAPTER  IX. 

IN  THE  TOILS  OF  THE  TEMPTER  —  CHARMED  UNTIL  CHAINED 
—  THE  BATTLE   OF  LIFE  — A  STAINED  RECORD. 

The  Old  Lady  and  the  Haystack  —  Driving  Nails  in  One's  Own  Coffin  —  The 
Green-eyed,  Fiery-tongued  Serpent  —  Robbing  Birds'  Nests  —  Suspended 
in  Mid-air  —  A  Frightful  Position  —  Only  a  Single  Strand  Between  Life 
and  Death  —  A  Thrilling  Incident  —  Narrow  Escape  —  My  Frolic  with  a 
Child  — A  Boy  Again  — The  Drunken  Loafer  — Look  on  this  Picture, 
then  on  That  —  Youth  and  Old  Age  Side  by  Side  —  A  Picture  for  Young 
Men  —  Past,  Present,  and  Future  —  A  Physician's  Story — A  Pathetic 
Incident  —  Alone  —  A  Night  in  the  Cold  and  Dark  —  A  Little  Girl's  Sad 
Story — The  Old  Lady's  Feelings  —  "A  Certain-sort-of -Goneness "  — 
Nearer  and  Nearer  to  the  End  —  A  Stained  Record  —  Life  is  What  You 
Choose  to  Make  it  —  "  Where  Are  Those  Dogs  Going  ?  "  —  Treasures  Laid 
up  Above —  Life's  Battlefield  —  Honorable  Scars  —  A  Disgraced  Regiment 
Winning  Back  its  Colors  —  Honor  Retrieved 226 


CHAPTER   X. 

PREVENTION  BETTER  THAN  CURE  — THE  PATHOS  OF  LIFE  — 
CHILDREN  BORN  TO  SIN  AND  SORROW. 

Tell-tale  Scars  —  A  Modern  Life  of  Moses  —  Underrating  the  Capacity  of 
Children  —  A  Boy's  Idea  of  How  Flies  are  Made  —  "  Putting  on  'em  To- 
gether, and  a-Fitting  of  'em" — Saving  Half  Fare  —  " Only  Ten,  in  the 
Cars  "  —  A  New  Way  to  Sign  the  Pledge  —  A  Father  who  Would  not  be 


CONTENTS.  xix 

Outdone  by  His  Boy  —  A  True  Incident  —  What  the  Jug  Contained  — 
Value  of  Children's  Aid  —  An  Incident  from  My  Own  Experience  —  Cries 
of  Distress  —  A  Peep  Over  the  Fence  —  A  Triumphal  Procession  —  What 
a  Temperance  Boy  Accomplished  —  An  Army  Officer's  Story  —  Charity 
Children  —  A  Tour  Through  a  Tenement  House  —  What  was  Discovered 
Under  the  Rafters  — A  Dying  Little  Waif— Hiding  from  Father  — 
Friendless  and  Motherless  —  An  Affecting  Scene  —  The  Dying  Boy's 
Hymn  —  Death  in  a  Garret  —  Rest  at  Last  —  How  a  Minister  Argued  the 
Points  —  Convinced  —  God  Bless  the  Children  .  .  239 


CHAPTER  XL 

MY    POSITION   DEFINED  —  REASON   AND    REVELATION  —  THE 
CURTAIN  LIFTED  — TALES  OF  THE  FALLEN. 

A  Titled  Toll-Man  —  Learning  versus  Common  Sense  —  Our  Standpoint  — 
An  Actor  with  a  Proud  Record  —  Incidents  of  my  First  Visit  to  Califor- 
nia —  "  Help  Me  Out  of  This  Hell "  —  A  Cry  of  Agony—  "  Drink 's  My 
Curse" — Lifting  the  Curtain  —  Secrets  of  the  Charnel  House  —  My  Inter- 
view with  a  Physician  —  "  It 's  No  Use,  I  'm  a  Lost  Laddie,  Good-by  "  — 
A  Clergyman's  Sad  Downfall  —  Employed  as  a  Hostler  in  a  Stable  — 
"  You  Know  Who  I  Am,  go  Away  from  Me  "  —  "  Lost !  LOST  !  LOST  !  " 
—  An  Explorer's  Testimony  —  An  Interesting  Narrative  —  A  Campaign 
Full  of  Hardship  and  Danger  —  Soldiers  Without  Grog  — What  they 
Endured  —  Sir  Henry  Havelock's  Report  —  Storming  a  Fortress  after  a 
March  of  Forty  Miles  —  Sitting  on  a  Hornet's  Nest  —  A  Boy's  Com- 
position on  a  Pin  —  Stimulus  not  Strength 256 


CHAPTER  XII. 

WHO    ARE    THE    VICTIMS ?  — LIFE    IN    A    BAR-ROOM—LIFE 
HISTORIES   TRACED  IN   TEARS  AND  WRITTEN  IN  BLOOD. 

The  Next  Morning  after  a  Spree  —  Maddening  Thirst  —  A  Visit  to  a  Gin 
Shop  —  Scenes  Inside  —  Victims  at  the  Bar  —  Horrible  Wrecks  and 
Bloated  Sots  —  The  Suicide's  Death-bed  —  Dreadful  Scenes  —  The  Ruling 
Passion  Strong  in  Death—  " Mary!  Mary!  I  have  Signed  the  Pledge  "  — 
The  Sailor's  Speech  —  A  Realistic  Dream  —  Life  Histories  Traced  in  Tears 
and  Written  in  Blood  —  Women  who  Drink  in  Low  Life  —  Fearful  Degra- 
dation—  The  Dead  Mother  and  Her  Babe  —  The  Negro  Jury's  Ridiculous 
Verdict  —  Women  who  Drink  in  High  Life  —  A  Sad  Story  —  An  Awful 
Death  —  An  Audience  of  Drunkards —  James  McCurrey — Inviting  a  Sot 
to  Sleep  in  his  House  —  Burning  the  Bed  Clothes  next  Day  —  Noble  Act 
of  a  Noble  Man  — What  Followed  — The  Prize  Fighter's  Story  —  Saved t 
by  Kindness  —  The  History  of  a  Grog-shop  Fiddler  —  The  Shipwreck  — 

Man  the  Lifeboat! 270 

2 


XX  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

CURIOSITY  — STRUGGLES  AND  TRIUMPHS  OF  MEN  OF  GENIUS 

—  STORIES  OF  INQUISITIVE  AND  MEDDLESOME  PEOPLE. 

Curiosity;  What  Is  It?  —  What  it  Has  Led  To  —  Utilizing  Steam  —  Thrown 
into  a  Madhouse  —  "I  am  not  Mad "  —  Left  to  Die  —  The  Kilsby  Tunnel 

—  Hidden  Quicksand  —  Solving  the  Problem  —  Stephenson's  Stupendous 
Undertaking  —  The  Electric  Telegraph  —  Early  Struggles  of  Prof.  Samuel 
Morse  —  Gloomy  Prospects  —  Help  at  Last  —  Unknown  Heroes  —  Pick- 
wick and  the  Cabman  —  A  Very  Ancient  Horse  —  An  Inquisitive  Com- 
panion—  Judging  from  Appearances  —  "What  Will  You  Give?"  —  A 
Printer's  Self-Denial  for  His  Little  Blind  Sister  — A  Noble  Act  — The 
Miser  of  Marseilles  —  His  Will  —  Why  He  Hoarded  His  Gains  —  An  Inci- 
dent in  a  Sleeping  Car  —  A  Bachelor's  Experience  —  Taking  Care  of  the 
Baby — Shakespeare's  Skull  —  Story  of  the  Philosopher  and  the  Calf's 
Tail  —  Things  We  Do  Not  Know  —  Queer  Reasons  —  "  Who  Made  You  ?  " 

—  Five  Pounds  of  "  Ditto  "  —  Wonderful  Scientific  Facts    .  290 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE  RUGGED  ROAD  TO  SUCCESS  —  HEROES  AND  HEROISM  IN 
HUMBLE  LIFE -THRILLING  INCIDENTS  AND  STORIES. 

Patience  and  Perseverance  Necessary  to  Success  —  The  Man  who  First 
Thought  of  the  Steamboat  —  " Poor  Fellow;  He's  Crazy  Yet"  — His 
Last  Request  —  A  Nobleman's  Foolish  Boast  —  Eating  the  Boiler  of  a 
Steamboat  —  Among  the  Cornwall  Miners  —  A  Thrilling  Incident  — 
Touching  off  a  Blast  at  the  Bottom  of  a  Deep  Shaft  —  A  Moment  of  Ter- 
rible Suspense  —  "Up  with  Ye!  I  '11  be  in  Heaven  in  a  Minute"  — An 
Act  of  Noble  Self-sacrifice  —  A  Hero  in  Humble  Life  —  The  Explosion  — 
Descending  the  Shaft  —  A  Champagne  Factory  in  New  Jersey — Stepping 
into  the  Slush  — Burnt  Boots  — A  Hard  Fight— Fable  of  the  Cat  and 
the  Wily  Mouse  —  Getting  the  best  of  the  Cat  —  A  Humorous  Story  — 
The  Old  Couple  who  "Swore  off  "  —  "Well,  I  will  if  you  will"  — A 
Meal  of  Toasted  Cheese  — Building  the  Temple  ......  308 


CHAPTER  XV. 

GOSPEL    TEMPERANCE  —  ILLUSTRATIVE    INCIDENTS    AND 
STORIES  —  LEAVES  FROM  MY   OWN  EXPERIENCE. 

Why  I  Do  Not  Preach  the  Gospel  —  The  Meanest  Man  I  Ever  Knew  —  The 
Grace  of  God  —  My  Belief  —  Found  Dead  —  The  Frenchman  and  the  City 
Missionary — An  Honest  Opinion— An  Emphatic  Statement — "Bosh" 
—  Drinking  First  and  Finding  an  Excuse  Afterwards  —  A  Clergyman's 


CONTENTS.  xxj 

Story—  "  I  Take  it  as  a  Medicine"  —  A  Dandy's  Worthless  Adyice  —  A 
Negro's  Practical  Help —  Power  of  Man's  Will  —  My  Horror  of  Drunken- 
ness—  Terrible  Dreams — "It  Tasted  Good" — My  Idea  of  Sin — Want 
of  Cordiality  in  Our  Churches  —  Chilly  Reception  to  Strangers  —  My  Own 
Experience  —  Painful  Truths  —  A  Novel  Way  of  Getting  Acquainted  — 
Looking  Back  Thirty  Years  —  A  Good  Story  —  Betty  and  the  Bear  —  The 
Husband's  Sudden  Retreat  to  the  Rafters  —  A  Plucky  Wife  —  "  Take  Him 
on  the  Other  Side,  Betty ! "  —  "  We  "  Have  Done  Gloriously  .  .  323 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

SLIPPERY    PLACES  — TRAPS    FOR    THE    UNWARY  —  PATHETIC 
SCENES  AND  INCIDENTS  —  HOME  SHADOWS. 

Alsopp's  Breweiy— An  Incident  of  My  Visit  +j  Old  Virginia  —  Firm  Con- 
victions —  Ridiculous  Arguments  of  Women  —  Extracts  From  Letters  I 
Have  Received  —  When  Does  Drinking  Become  a  Sir  ?  —  How  a  Church 
Member  Behaved  at  One  of  My  Lectures  —  Moderate  Drinking  —  How 
the  Church  Regards  It  —  A  Quaker's  Advice  to  His  Son  —  How  Not  to 
Get  Drunk  —  The  Power  of  Will  —  The  Fakir  of  India  —  Cries  of  De- 
spair —  The  Curse  of  the  World  —  The  Little  Cripple  —  A  Pitiable  Sight- 
Dreadful  Afflictions  — "I  Am  So  Tired  "— Pathetic  Incidents  — A 
Father's  Prayer  —  Touching  Home  Scenes  —  "  Hush  !  Hush  !  Hush  !"  — 
Dealing  With  Facts  — A  Father's  Sad  Story  — A  Terrible  Scene  — The 
Power  of  Appetite  —  A  Minister's  Experience — A  Night  of  Agony  — 
Wrestling  with  the  Destroyer  —  An  Awful  Fight  — Onward,  Upward, 
Victory 342 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

WHO     ARE    RESPONSIBLE?  — WAIFS    AND    STRAYS    OF    CITY 
STREETS  — LIFE  IN  RAGGED  HOMES  — HOMELESS  CHILDREN. 

Boys  of  the  Street  —  Danger  of  Chaffing  Them  —  Can  They  Be  Rescued? — 
A  Scene  I  Once  Witnessed  —  Training-Schools  of  Crime  —Life  Below  the 
Surface  —  A  City  Slum  —  Dens  of  Iniquity  and  Vice  —  Filth  and  Squalor 
on  Every  Side  —  Herding  Together  Like  Animals  —  My  New  Pair  of 
Boots  —  Trying  Them  to  See  How  They  Fit  —  I  Am  Assailed  by  Swarms 
of  Boys  —  "  Boots  !  Boots  !" —Pelted  with  Potatoes  and  Carrots  — My 
Ignominious  Flight  —  The  Boys  and  the  Pumpkin  Seeds  —  An  Anxious 
Farmer— An  Extraordinary  Story  of  Crime  —  Appalling  Facts  — An 
Affecting  Story  of  Hospital  Life  —Two  Little  Invalids  —  One  Crushed,  the 
Other  Starved  —  "  Bobby,  Did  You  Ever  Hear  of  Jesus  ?"  —  Propping  Up 
the  Sick  Boy's  Arm  —  Dead  ;  His  Little  Hand  Held  Up  for  Jesus  —  A 
Street  Scene  in  London  —  The  Claims  of  Humanity  —  The  Burning 
Ship  —  A  Noble  Act  —  True  Heroism  .  358 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

NOW   AND    THEN;    OR,  PAST,  PRESENT,  AND  FUTURE  — 
SONAL  EXPERIENCES  AND  REMINISCENCES. 

Past,  Present,  and  Future  —  What  We  Owe  to  the  Past  —  Our  First 
Century  —  One  Hundred  Years  Ago  —  A  Bundle  of  Stamps  —  Exciting 
Times  —  A  Memorable  Snow-ball  Fight  —  Discovering  Tea  in  Her  Hus- 
band's Shoes  —  "  Disperse,  Ye  Rebels  "  —  Determined  Patriots  —  "  Who 
Is  That  Person?"  — "Will  He  Fight ?"— Antony  Burns,  the  Fugitive 
Slave  —  How  He  Was  Marched  Through  the  Streets  of  Boston  —  Wonder- 
ful Progress —  Fifty  Years  Ago  —  Grand  Achievements  —  How  We 
Printed  When  I  Was  a  Boy  —  The  Light  of  Other  Days  —  Travelling  in 
the  Olden  Time  —  Personal  Experiences  —  Three  Miles  an  Hour — "I 
Must  Take  a  Pill"  —My  Ride  on  the  First  Railroad  Built  in  America  — 
The  Electric  Telegraph  —  Reminiscences  of  My  Boyhood  —  The  Tele- 
phone—The "  Fire  Cart"  —An  Old  Couple's  Idea  of  Telegraphing  —  A 
Negro's  Description  —  The  "  Puir  Whales  "  —  Jonathan  Hull  —  "  I'm  the 
Nineteenth  Century " ..." 377 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

DANGER    SIGNALS  —NOTES    OF     WARNING    FROM    EARLIER 
DAYS  AND  SCENES  — RECOLLECTIONS   OF  THE  PAST. 

Lamentable  Ignorance  —  Thin-skinned  People  — How  Some  of  Them  Show 
Their  Indignation  —  Proving  a  Man  a  Liar  —  Gentility  is  Not  Always 
Respectability  —  Clothes  Do  Not  Always  Proclaim  the  Man  —  "  A  Man's 
a  Man  for  a'  That "  —  The  Curtain  Lifted  —  A  Peep  Behind  the  Scenes  — 
Personal  Recollections  —  My  First  Address  in  Boston  —  Recalling  My 
Theatrical  Days  —  Companions  of  My  Youth  —  Tragic  Deaths  —  Fate  of 
Some  of  My  Comrades  —  An  Incident  in  Glasgow  —  A  Dastardly  Act  — 
Terrible  Consequences  That  Followed  —  Found  Dead  Among  the  Rushes — 
My  Visit  to  the  Indianapolis  Lunatic  Asylum  —  Raving  of  Devils,  Snakes, 
and  Creeping  Things  — " Oh!  How  They  Glare  at  Me!"  — "They 
Creep!  They  Crawl!"  —  Awful  Scenes  —  Graphic  Peri  Picture  of  a 
Toper  — The  Devil's  Workshop  — Satan's  Abode —Calling  His  Satellites 
Around  Him — Alcohol,  the  Right  Hand  of  the  Devil  —  An  Uncom- 
promising Fight 390 


CHAPTER  XX. 

WHO  IS  MY  NEIGHBOR  ?  — LIFE    IN    THE    BACK    STREETS    OF 
NEW  YORK— VOICES  FROM  THE  SLUMS. 

Fast  Young  Men  —  Seeing  a  Little  of  Life  —  A  Sea  Captain's  Story  —  What 
One  Glass  of  Rum  Did— A  Young  Man's  Story  — A  Son's  Hand  Stained 


CONTENTS.  xxiii 

with  Blood  !—  "Out,  Damned  Spot "  —  What  is  a  True  Gentleman  ?  —  A 
Letter  Carrier's  Story—  Calling  Her  Neighbor  a  "Hindewidual "  —  "I 
Ups  with  a  Pail  of  Water,"  etc.  —  Leaders  of  Society — Women  Who  Fol- 
low Them —  John  Pounds,  the  Portsmouth  Cobbler  —  Noble  Women  — 
Clara  Barton's  Self-sacrifice  and  Heroism  —  The  Iron  Cross  of  Germany  — 
The  "Old  Brewery"  in  New  York  —  Murderers'  Alley  —  What  a  Police- 
man Told  Me  — A  Dreadful  Locality  —  Human  Fiends —Stripping  a 
Corpse  and  Selling  the  Grave  Clothes  —  Raising  the  Money  to  Buy  the 
Place — A  Memorable  Meeting  —  A  Street  Scene  in  New  York  —  Little 
Mary  Morrison— God  Speed  the  Right 407 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

WILL  IT  PAY?— LIFE'S  OPPORTUNITIES  —  GROTESQUE  SCENES 
AND  AMUSING  STORIES  — ON  THE  BRINK. 

Men  Who  Cannot  Understand  a  Joke—  "The  Little  Chap  That  Told  Me  To 
Holler"— First-class  Stupidity—  "  Comfortably"  Full  — The  Stingy 
Drinker  —  Drink's  Direful  Work — Breaking  a  Mother's  Heart  —  Scenes 
in  a  Lunatic  Asylum  —  Raving  Idiots  —  A  Tipsy  Lover —  A  Visit  to  the 
Pig-sty  —  An  Unlooked-for  Catastrophe  —  Another  Pig  in  the  Pen —  "  I 
Am  as  Good  as  Any  of  You"  — Fighting  the  Pump  —  An  Unceremonious 
Tip-over— The  Tipsy  Students  —  Decidedly  Muddled  —  Kicking  Each 
Other  Out  of  Bed  — A  Grotesque  Scene  —  The  Indian  and  His  Fire- 
water—  "Only  This  Once"  —  A  Clergyman's  Downfall  —  A  Wife's 
Story — In  Jail  —  Reminiscences  of  Forty  Years  Ago  —  An  Appeal  to 
Young  Men  —  Coach  Driving  in  California  —  A  Death-bed  Scene  —  "I 
Can't  Find  the  Brake"  —  Sowing  Wild  Oats 423 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

OUR  DUTY  TO  THE  FALLEN  —  BRANDS  PLUCKED  FROM  THE 
BURNING  — STORY  OF  THE  WICKEDEST  MAN  IN  NEW  YORK. 

An  Incident  of  the  War  —  Clean  Linen  First,  Religion  Afterwards  — Work 
Among  the  Poor  and  Depraved  —  Dens  of  Vice  —  Bread  Before  Tracts  — 
Speaking  to  an  Audience  of  Eight  Hundred  Outcasts  —  The  Wickedest 
Man  in  New  York  —Story  of  Orville  Gardiner — A  Mother's  Love  for  a 
Wayward  Son  —  A  Thrilling  Experience  —  A  Nine  Hours'  Fight  with  a 
Jug  of  Whisky  —  A  Thoroughly  Reformed  Gambler  and  Prize-fighter  — 
Tempted  at  Communion  Service  —  Cutting  it  Off  "as  Square  as  a  Piece 
of  Cheese " —Daily  Trials  —  Trusting  in  God  — My  Boyish  Dislike  of 
Attending  Church  —  Incident  of  a  Lecture  Tour  in  Ohio  —  Sad  Down- 
fall of  a  Once  Devoted  Christian  Woman  —  A  Minister  Drunk  in  His  Own 
Pulpit  —  Scene  at  One  of  My  Lectures  —  Selling  the  Last  Blanket  for 
Rum  —  Death  and  Desolation  —  The  Breach  in  the  Dike  —  A  Thrilling 
Story  of  Holland  Life 441 


xxiv  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

MEN   AND  METHODS,   MANNERS    AND  MORALS   OF    OUR    OWN 
TIMES  — ILLUSTRATIVE  ANECDOTES  AND  INCIDENTS. 

Reflection  —  Aping  Extravagance  —  Beginning  Life  Where  Their  Fathers 
Left  Off  —  Odd  Reasons  for  Getting  Married.—  Butterflies  of  Fashion  — 
Old  Aunt  Chloe  —  "  Tie  'Em  Together  "  —  The  Husband  Who  Proclaimed 
Himself  "a  Regular  Julius  Csesar"— What  His  Wife  Thought  About 
It  — "Who  Keeps  This  House?"— How  the  Question  Was  Settled- 
Family  Jars  —  u  Will  the  Sheriff  Sell  Me?"— Power  of  Money  — Spoils 
of  Office  —  "  Grandpa,  Have  a  Weed  ?"  — Old-time  Politeness  —  Dif- 
ference Between  "  Then  "  and  "  Now  "  —  "  I  Knocks  My  Boys  Down  and 
They  Ain't  Good "  — Influence  of  Example  — A  Father's  Cruel  Act  — 
"Do  It  Again,  Papa" — Henry  Clay  and  the  Farmer  —  John  on  His 
Knees  —  The  Ship  Captain  and  the  Sailor  —  Past  and  Present  —  Elisha 
Kent  Kane  —  A  Remarkable  Career — One  of  Sin's  Victims — A 
Dark  Picture  —  Broken  Hopes  and  Buried  Aspirations  —  The  Alabaster 
Box  .  .  461 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  OTHERS  —  LESSONS  DRAWN  FROM  LIFE  — 
HUMAN  WRECKS  —  ILLUSTRATIVE  STORIES  AND  FACTS. 

Death's  Harvest  Field  —  The  Fatal  Sliding  Scale  —What  I  Saw  in  a  Railway 
Carriage  —  A  Terrible  Spectacle  —  Father,  Mother,  and  Child  Intoxi- 
cated —  A  Mother's  Story  —  The  Rapids  at  Niagara  Falls  —  Fascination  of 
Danger— A  Terrible  Tragedy  —  " Stand  Back!  Stand  Back!"  — The 
Fatal  Plunge  —  Story  of  the  Poor  Emigrant  Woman  —  A  Mother's  Love  — 
"Fire  !"  — "  Make  Way  There.  Police  !"— Temptations  of  a  Great 
City  —  An  Incident  of  Chicago  Life  —  Return  of  the  Prodigal  Son  —  A 
Scene  in  a  London  Cellar  —  A  City  Missionary's  Story  —  Horace  Greeley  — 
We  Visit  Senator  McConnell  —  His  Wretched  Appearance  —  Tender  Re- 
gard for  His  Wife  — A  Precious  Memento  —  "  Give  Up  the  Drink? 
Never!"— His  Awful  Death  — A  Two-bottle  Man  — The  Old  Scotch 
Bailie  !  — Fire-side  Thoughts  —  Captain  Creighton  and  the  Ship  "Three 
Bells  "  — Terrible  Suspense  —  Great  Rejoicing 478 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

POWER  OF    EXAMPLE  — LIFE  IN   A    GREAT    CITY  — STORY  OF 
DRUNKEN  JAKE  — SCENES  IN  MY  EARLIER  DAYS. 

"Don't  Believe  It "  — Incredulous  People  —  Street    Children —Little  Crea- 
tures in  Tatters  and  Filth  — The  Mouth  of  Hell  — "I  Have  a  Terrible 


CONTENTS.  xxv 

Bunch  on  My  Side  "  —  Fool's  Pence  —  A  Good  Story  —  "  Dip  Your  Scone 
in  Your  Own  Gravy  "  —  A  Tough  Audience  —  A  Leaf  from  My  Experience 
in  Connecticut  —  A  Marvellously  Interesting  Story  —  Thrilling  Scenes  — 
Bribing  Drunken  Jake  to  Disturb  the  Meeting  —  An  Unexpected  Result  — 
A  Happy  Day  —  Personal  Experience  in  Vermont  —  Another  Tough 
Audience  —  Willing  Hands  and  Hearts  —  My  Proposition  to  Twenty-seven 
Ladies  —  "  Hark  !  There  Is  the  Bell  ! "  —  Remarkable  Scenes  —  Interest- 
ing Reminiscences  —  My  Experience  in  Cincinnati  —  P.  T.  Barnum  and 
Jenny  Lind  —  Mr.  Barnum  Offers  Five  Thousand  Dollars  for  the  Use  of  a 
Church  —  Why  His  Offer  Was  Declined  —  "Look!  The  Prairie  Is  on 
Fire  !"— Faith  in  God  496 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  GREAT   CONFLICT   IN   ENGLAND    AND   SCOTLAND  — THE 
DESTROYER'S  MARCH  — PERSONAL  WORK  AND  EXPERIENCES. 

The  Temperance  Cause  in  England  —  Mr.  Spurgeon's  Opinion  —  Alarming 
Increase  of  Dram-shops  —  London  —  Different  Classes  of  Society  —  Grave 
Apprehensions  for  the  Future  —  The  Tide  of  Evil  —  Drinking  Among 
Women  —  Fighting  the  Demon  of  Intemperance  —  My  Labors  in  Eng- 
land—  The  Hardest  Work  of  Thirty  Years  —  Powerful  Champions  — 
Hoxton  Hall  —  Its  Former  Vile  Reputation  —  Touching  Scenes  —  Imi- 
tating Jerry  McAuley's  Mission  —  Work  Among  the  Ragged  and 
Wretched  —  Rational  Enjoyment  for  the  Homeless  —  Edinburgh  —  A 
Total  Abstinence  Club-room  —  A  Drunken  Teetotaller  —  Seeking  Safety  — 
Testimony  of  Eminent  Physicians  —  A  Remarkable  Incident  —  Recollec- 
tions of  the  Past  —  A  Leaf  from  My  Own  Experience  —  An  Awful 
Struggle  —  Rev.  C.  H.  Spurgeon  —  How  I  Became  Acquainted  with 
Him  —  Mrs.  Spurgeon  —  A  Noble  Woman  —  Disobeying  the  Doctor  — 
Mr.  Spurgeon's  Substitute  for  Beer 578 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

POWER    OF   WOMAN'S    INFLUENCE  —  SOCIAL   CUSTOMS    THAT 
LEAD  TO  RUIN  — MEMORABLE   INCIDENTS  IN  MY  CAREER. 

Woman's  Power  and  Influence  —  A  True  Incident  —  How  Joe  WTas  Induced 
to  Sign  the  Pledge  —  One  Year  Afterwards  — A  Romantic  Story  —  An 
Intemperate  Lover  —  A  Romance  from  Real  Life  —  A  Telling  Crusade 
Against  a  Dram-shop  —  A  Well-Planned  Campaign  —  An  Astonished 
Rumseller —  "  Worse  Than  it  Was  Yesterday"  —  Deciding  Who  Was  the 
Head  of  the  House  —  A  Memorable  Incident  in  My  Career  —  Twenty 
Years  After  — Young  Girls  Who  Drink— The  Downward  Path  — A 
Lover  Tempted  by  His  Affianced  —  The  Shaft  of  Ridicule  —  The  Fall  — 
Tempter  and  Tempted  —  Found  Dead  —  Social  Customs  That  Lead  to 
Ruin  —  Unwelcome  Guests  —  Incidents  of  My  Work  in  Cincinnati  —  A 


XXvi  CONTENTS. 

Shower  of  One  Hundred  and  Forty-three  Autograph  Albums  —  Writing 
the  Pledge  in  Each  One  — What  Followed  — A  Flood  of  Eight  Hun- 
dred Albums  —  Story  of  the  Colored  Preacher  —  Jumping  Through  a 
Wall .  .  528 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

RANDOM   THOUGHTS  — STORIES   AND   SKETCHES   FROM  BOTH 
SIDES  OF   LIFE  —  GLEANINGS   OF   A  LEISURE  HOUR. 

Religion  in  Everyday  Life  —  Silent  Influence  —  The  Sentry  of  Pompeii  — 
Faithful  Unto  Death  — Origin  of  the  Term  "  Teetotal"  —  Dickey 
Turner  —  Death  Before  Bondage  —  Trading  in  Human  Lives  — The 
Auction-block  —  A  Strong  Man's  Agony  —  Clinging  to  Respectability  — 
The  Traveller  and  His  Gold  —  Seeking  Shelter  —  The  Pioneer's  Hut  — 
An  Hour  of  Fear  and  Trembling  —  "  It 's  Time  to  Go  to  Bed  "  —  A  Re- 
markable Incident  —  Anecdote  of  a  Poor  Negro  —  "Come,  Cato,  Get 
Up"— A  Thrilling  Incident  — A  Disabled  Steamer  —  Drifting  Toward 
the  Shore  —  Power  of  Christian  Example  —  A  Ship  in  Distress  —  The 
Alarm  Gun  —  Launching  the  Lifeboat  —  "  I  Will  Go  ;  Who  Will  Follow 
Me  "  —  Pulling  for  Life  —  Saved  at  Last  —  The  Moderate  Drinker  —  The 
Negro  and  His  Potato  Patch  — A  Disastrous  Invasion  — Old  Tom's 
Pigs  —  "  Pay  De  Damage "  —  "Daddy  Moses  "  —Imparting  Strength  to 
Others  .  ,  548 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

MODERATION  — THE  CUP  OF  DEATH  — THE   HUMOROUS   SIDE 
OF  DRUNKENNESS  —  THE  DARK  SIDE. 

A  Minister's  Dangerous  Advice  — Men  Who  "Can't  Stand  It"  — Story  of 
the  Church  Member  Who  Went  After  a  Load  of  Wood  —  Taking  a  "  Nip  " 
to  Keep  Out  the  Cold  —  Another  "Nip"  — A  Ludicrous  Tableau  — 
Listening  to  an  Account  of  a  Surgical  Operation  —  I  Am  Compelled 
to  Leave  the  Room — An  Actor's  Foolish  Wish — "  Cuttings-up  "  — 
A  Story  for  the  Benefit  of  Young  Women  —  An  Unwilling  Bride- 
groom—  The  Humorous  Side  of  Drunkenness  —  Ludicrous  Incidents 

—  "  Toodles "  —  "  That 's    the    Way    I    Always    Come    Down    Stairs" 

—  Anecdote  of  Bishop  Clarke  —  The  Man  Who  Swallowed  the    Spool 
of  Silk— "Wife!    Wife!    I'm  All  Unravelling "— A  Good    Story  — 
An  Exceedingly  Comical    Situation  —  The    Dark  Side  —  A    Bridegroom 
Sentenced  to  be  Hanged  —  What  Rum  Did 562 


CONTENTS.  xxvii 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

THE  REASON  WHY  — THE  FIRST  GLASS  —  RECOLLECTIONS  OF 
MY  FATHER  — HUMOROUS  STORIES. 

Standpoint  —  Opposition  We  Meet  —  An  Obliging  Blacksmith  —  My 
Respect  for  Other  People's  Opinions  —  Power  of  Truth  —  What  Makes 
Public  Sentiment  —  Our  Duty  —  A  Funny  Story  as  Told  by  Bishop 
Clark  —  A  Disputed  Question  in  Astronomy  —  A  Laughable  Incident  — 
An  Unnatural  Appetite  —  The  Struggle  of  a  Lifetime  —  Why  I  Am 
Polite  to  Dogs  —  Giving  the  Curs  a  Wide  Berth  —  My  Dread  of  Hydro- 
phobia —  What  Rev.  E.  IT.  Chapin  Said  —  Terrible  Results  of  the  First 
Glass  —  A  Graphic  Picture  —  Recollections  of  My  Father  —  His  Habit  of 
Moderate  Drinking — His  Death  at  Ninety-four  —  Advice  to  Moderate 
Drinkers  —  An  Infamous  Example  —  The  Man  at  the  Top  of  the  Church 
Spire  — A  Dangerous  Position  —  "O  Sandy,  I'm  having  an  Awfu' 
Tumble  "  — Talking  to  a  Plug  of  Tobacco  — A  Physician's  Story  — An 
Inveterate  Smoker  —  Smoked  to  Death 582 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

AGENTS      OF     THE     DEVIL  — HOW     LIQUOR-SELLERS      MAKE 
PAUPERS,   FEED  JAILS,   AND  INCITE   CRIME. 

A  Truthful  Sign-board —Specimens  of  the  Rumseller's  Work  — A  Remi- 
niscence of  Other  Days  —  A  Pitiable  Spectacle  —  Placing  a  Drunkard  on 
Exhibition  at  a  Fair  —  Fruit  of  the  Dram-Shop  —  Protecting  the  Rum- 
seller —  Fearful  Responsibility — Remarkable  Offer  of  P.  T.  Barnum  — 
Stubborn  Facts  —  Startling  Figures  —  Sad  Results  —  Haunts  of  Vice  — 
Where  Criminals  and  Paupers  Come  From  —  Hot-beds  of  Crime  — A  Sug- 
gestive Incident  —  Empty  Jails  —  Terrible  Scenes  —  Newgate  Prison  — 
A  Pocket  With  a  Hole  in  It  —  An  Incident  of  London  Life  —  Sunday 
Scene  at  the  Seven  Dials  —  Watching  the  Door  of  ' 'The  Grapes"  —  A 
Wretched  Crowd  —  Disgraceful  Scenes  —  A  Terrible  Threat  Against  My 
Life  —  Amusing  Incident  —  Recalling  My  Dark  Days  —  A  Faithful  Wife  — 
"John,  Don't  be  Soft "— Incident  of  the  Great  Coal  Strike  — How  to 
Blot  Out  the  Curse  .  597 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

ANNIHILATION  OUR  WAR  CRY  — FRUIT  OF  THE  DRAM-SHOP  — 
BRUTES    IN   HUMAN   FORM  — THE  DAWN   OF    DAY. 

My  First  View  of  Niagara  Falls  —  "  Back  !  Back  for  your  Lives  "  —  Receiv- 
ing His  Just  Deserts  —  Moral  Suasion  —  A  Poor  Woman's  Story  —  A 
Brute  in  Human  Form  —  A  Mothers  Plea  — ''For  God's  Sake  Spare 


XXV111 


CONTENTS. 


My  Child  ! "  —  The  Lowest  of  the  Low  —  Your  Money  and  Your  Life  — 
A  Mother's  Grief  —  A  Tour  of  Observation  after  Dark  —  What  I  Saw 
—  Dreadful  Scenes  in  a  Whiskey  Shop  —  Pettyfogging  Shysters  —  Blood- 
money  —  Trial  by  Jury  —  "  Did  You  Smell  It  ?  "  —  The  Patient  Old  Man 
and  His  Hay  —  A  Young  Man's  Story  —  A  Thrilling  Incident  —  Carrying 
Home  the  Dead  Body  of  His  Father — Temperance  Bitters  —  The  Jury 
and  the  Stolen  Bacon  —  A  Foregone  Conclusion  —  A  Corrupt  Judge  — 
Retributive  Justice  —  "  A  Bit  of  Bread,  Please,  for  I'm  Hungry"  —  Pull- 
ing a  Tooth  by  Degrees  —  An  Astonished  Partner  —  Steps  in  the  Right 
Direction  .  .  617 


SOUTH  VIEW  OF  MR.  GOUGH'S  RESIDENCE. 


'HE  story  of  Ihe  life  and 
of  John  B.  Gough  is  the  story 
of  the  progress  of  the  tem- 
perance reformation  for  over 
forty  years.  I  propose  in 
these  pages  to  give  the  essen- 
tial facts  in  the  history  of  that 
reformation,  a  movement  as 
influential  in  its  bearing  on  the  welfare 
of  the  human  race  as  any  in  the  long 
campaign  between  light  and  darkness, 
good  and  evil ;  the  essential  facts,  too, 
in  the  story  of  that  life,  a  life  dramatic 
in  its  experiences,  and  striking  in  its  contrasts  of  sunlight 
and  shadow,  more  so  than  is  often  to  be  seen  011  life's  stage, 
whose  tragedy  and  comedy  tread  so  closely  011  each  other's 
heels. 

*  It  is  proper  to  state  here,  to  guard  against  any  possible  misapprehen- 
sion, that  I  was  requested  by  the  publishers  to  prepare  this  introduction  ; 
that  I  had  no  consultation  with  Mr.  Gough  respecting  its  character  or  con- 
tents, and  derived  no  information  from  him  in  its  preparation,  though,  dur- 
ing his  absence  from  home,  I  had  access  in  his  library  to  his  records  and 
scrap-books  ;  that  all  the  matters  herein  described  are  matters  of  public  rec- 
ord, chiefly,  however,  scattered  through  newspapers  and  periodical  publica- 
tions during  the  past  forty  years  ;  that  while  some  parts  of  the  history  here 
told  have  never  been  connectedly  told  before,  the  authority  for  it  has  all  been 
before  the  public,  and  is  matter  of  public  record. 

29 


30  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

Prior  to  the  seventeenth  century  drunkenness  did  not 
differ  essentially,  as  a  vice,  from  gluttony.  One  was  excess 
in  drinking ;  the  other  was  excess  in  eating.  It  is  true  that 
alcohol  intoxicates;  and  that  alcohol,  in  distinctly  appre- 
ciable quantities,  exists  in  all  fermented  juice  of  the  fruits  of 
the  earth.  But  it  is  also  true  that  intoxication  produced  by 
fermented  liquors  is  a  distinctly  different  phenomenon  from 
intoxication  produced  by  distilled  liquors.  Drunkenness,  in 
the  worst  of  Roman  debauches,  did  not  produce  the  madden- 
ing influences  produced  in  our  own  time  by  strong  drink. 
Drunkenness,  jasj  a  vice,  has  existed  ever  since  the  days  when 
the.  sons,  of  , Noah  endeavored  to  hide  the  shame  of  their 
'fatller'"^ '^  n'akiednejss'.,  ,  ,But  the  epoch  of  drunkenness  as  an 
epidemic  dates  from  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
It  was  in  that  centur}^  that  the  dangerous  and  deadly  art  of 
distillation  came  into  use.  By  this  process  the  alcohol  is 
separated  from  the  product  in  which,  nature  has  evolved  it. 
It  can  be  easily  converted  into  an  attractive  if  not  a  pala- 
table drink.  This  strong  drink  is  a  dangerous  and  even  a 
deadly  poison.  Used  at  first  as  a  specific  for  the  plague,  it 
speedily  came  into  general  use  as  a  medicine,  then  as  a  stimu- 
lant and  beverage.  The  downward  history  of  many  an  indi- 
vidual repeats  the  downward  history  of  the  European  races, 
especially  in  the  North.  Lecky,  in  his  history  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century,  gives  a  fearful  picture  of  the  extent  to  which 
the  habit  of  drinking  and  the  vice  of  drunkenness  had  taken 
hold  of  all  classes  of  society  in  England.  The  medicine 
originally  prescribed  for  the  plague  had  proved  worse  than 
the  disease.  Hard  drinking  had  become  a  national  habit.  It 
pervaded  all  classes  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  Addison, 
the  foremost  moralist  of  his  time,  was  not  free  from  it.  Ox- 
ford, whose  private  character  was  in  most  respects  singularly 
high,  is  said  to  have  frequently  come  intoxicated  into  the 
very  presence  of  the  Queen.  Bolingbroke,  when  in  office, 
sat  up  whole  nights  drinking,  and  in  the  morning,  having 
bound  a  wet  napkin  around  his  forehead  and  his  eyes,  to 
drive  away  the  effects  of  his  intemperance,  hastened  without 
sleep  to  his  official  business.  When  Walpole  was  a  young 


INTRODUCTION.  3] 

man  his  father  was  accustomed  to  pour  into  his  glass  a 
double  portion  of  wine,  saying,  "  Come,  Robert,  you  shall 
drink  twice  while  I  drink  once ;  for  I  will  not  permit  the 
son,  in  his  sober  senses,  to  be  witness  to  the  intoxication 
of  his  father."  The  fashion  set  by  the  high  was  quickly 
followed  by  the  low.  In  half  a  century  the  quantity  of 
distilled  liquors  sold  rose  from  527,000  to  over  5,000,000 
gallons.  "Retailers  of  gin  were  accustomed  to  hang  out 
painted  boards  announcing  that  their  customers  could  be 
made  drunk  for  a  penny,  and  dead  drunk  for  twopence,  and 
should  have  straw  for  nothing  ;  and  cellars  strewn  with  straw 
were  accordingly  provided,  into  which  those  who  had  become 
insensible  were  dragged,  and  where  they  remained  till  they 
had  sufficiently  recovered  to  renew  their  orgies."  A  law 
imposing  a  heavy  tax  on  the  sale  of  liquor  was  resisted  by 
violent  riots  and  evaded  by  clandestine  sales.  The  drinking 
habits  imported  originally  from  Holland  into  England  were 
imported  thence,  or  directly  from  its  birth-place,  to  this  coun- 
try. Drinking  was  universal ;  drunkenness  was  no  crime, 
hardly  a  social  vice.  In  New  England  all  the  stores  kept 
New  England  rum,  and  it  was  the  custom  to  give  a  drink  to 
any  trader  who  drove  a  considerable  trade.  Strong  drink 
was  universally  provided,  not  only  at  all  entertainments,  but 
on  all  special  occasions  —  house-warmings,  hay-makings,  and 
the  like.  Both  in  England  and  America  drunkenness  was 
regarded  as  an  amiable  weakness,  or  a  good  joke  ;  the  current 
opinion  respecting  it  is  faithfully  represented  in  Charles 
Dickens's  "  Pickwick  Papers,"  published  in  1835-36,  and 
read  in  all  circles  of  society  without  a  protest.  The  church 
did  little  to  rebuke  the  drunkenness,  and  did  much  to  en- 
courage the  drinking  customs  of  society.  At  ordinations 
and  dedications  it  was  not  unusual  for  the  church  to  provide 
for  its  guests,  out  of  the  church  treasury,  not  only  wines 
and  beer,  but  whiskey,  gin,  and  rum.  It  was  as  customary  for 
the  host  on  such  occasions  then  to  provide  alcoholic  drinks, 
as  it  would  be  now  for  him  to  provide  tea  and  coffee.  Dr. 
Lyman  Beecher  thus  describes  the  scene,  evidently  not  an 
unusual  one :  — 


32  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

"  At  the  ordination  at  Plymouth,  the  preparation  for  our  creature  com- 
forts, in  the  sitting-room  of  Mr.  Heart's  house,  besides  food,  was  a  broad 
sideboard  covered  with  decanters,  and  bottles,  and  sugar,  and  pitchers  of 
water.  There  we  found  all  the,  various  kinds  of  liquors  then  in  vogue.  The 
drinking  was  apparently  universal.  This  preparation  was  made  by  the  Society 
as  a  matter  of  course.  When  the  Consociation  arrived,  they  always  took 
something  to  drink  round;  also  before  public  services,  and  always  on  their 
return.  As  they  could  not  all  drink  at  once,  they  were  obliged  to  stand  and 
wait  as  people  do  when  they  go  to  mill. 

"  There  was  a  decanter  of  spirits  also  on  the  dinner-table,  to  help  diges- 
tion, and  gentlemen  partook  of  it  through  the  afternoon  and  evening  as  they 
felt  the  need,  some  more,  some  less;  and  the  sideboard,  with  the  spilling  of 
water,  and  sugar,  and  liquor,  looked  and  smelled  like  the  bar  of  a  very  active 
grog-shop.  None  of  the  Consociation  were  drunk;  but  that  there  was  not,  at 
times,  a  considerable  amount  of  exhilaration,  I  cannot  affirm."  * 

From  a  very  early  period  isolated  attempts  were  made  to 
regulate  or  to  restrain  these  drinking  habits.  In  1676  a  new 
constitution  of  Virginia  contained  a  clause  prohibiting  the 
sale  of  wines  and  ardent  spirits.  In  1777  Congress  passed  a 
resolution  recommending  the  several  legislatures  to  "  pass 
laws  the  most  effective  for  putting  an  immediate  stop  to  the 
pernicious  practice  of  distilling  grain."  In  1789  a  tem- 
perance society  was  formed  in  Litchfield,  Conn.,  to  discuss 
the  use  of  spirituous  liquors.  Resolutions  of  total  absti- 
nence were  passed  a  few  years  later  by  the  Quarterly  Metho- 
dist Episcopal  Conference  of  Virginia  and  the  Presbyterian 
Synod  of  Pennsylvania.  But  these  spasmodic  and  local 
movements  accomplished  only  temporary  and  local  results. 
At  the  close  of  the  first  quarter  of  the  present  century, 
though  there  were  some  temperance  reformers,  there  was  no 
movement  in  either  England  or  the  United  States  sufficiently 
general  to  be  worthy  of  being  called  a  temperance  reforma- 
tion. Such  a  movement  never  has  a  single  source.  Like  a 
mighty  river,  it  rises  from  half  a  score  of  springs,  and  is 
augmented  in  its  flow  by  many  more.  One  of  the  springs  of 
the  temperance  movement  in  this  country  was  furnished  by 
Dr.  Lyman  Beecher's  famous  Six  Sermons  on  Intemperance, 


*  Lyman  Beecher's  autobiography,  vol.  i.  chap,  xxxvii.  Compare  "History 
of  the  Temperance  Movement,"  by  Rev.  J.  B.  Dunn,  D.D.,  in  the  "  Centennial 
Temperance  Volume,"  pp.  428,  42(J. 


INTRODUCTION.  33 

in  1825.  The  impulse  was  furnished  by  a  sad  but  not  un- 
common case  ;  the  father  and  husband  of  a  Christian  woman 
in  a  neighborhood  where  he  preached  became  victims  of  the 
drink.  The  sermons  were  preached  in  his  country  parish  at 
Litchfield,  Conn.  But  the  intense  excitement  which  they 
aroused  was  not  confined  to  the  neighborhood.  They  were 
printed.  Other  ministers  took  up  the  theme.  The  con- 
science of  New  England  was  fired.  Whiskey  and  rum  were 
banished,  first  from  the  sideboard  on  ordination  occasions, 
then  from  the  minister's  tables  altogether.  In  fifteen  years 
nineteen  twentieths  of  the  clergy  of  New  England  were 
habitual  if  not  total  abstainers.  The  ministers  of  New 
England  were  at  that  time  the  leaders  of  society.  Total 
abstinence  became  socially  respected.  Drunkenness  became 
recognized  as  a  vice.  Wine,  beer,  ale,  and  cider  still  re- 
mained common  table  drinks ;  but  New  England  rum  and 
Irish  whiskey  gradually  disappeared,  first  from  the  side- 
board, then  from  the  table,  little  by  little  from  the  closet. 
In  ten  years  the  consumption  of  strong  drink  had  been 
decreased  more  than  one  half  per  capita.  The  population 
had  increased  forty  per  cent;  the  amount  of  strong  drink 
consumed  had  decreased  forty  per  cent.  The  temperance 
movement  had  begun  ;  —  where  the  great  reforms  have  gen- 
erally begun,  in  the  church  of  Christ. 

Life  is  never  spontaneous.  That  axiom  is  as  true  in 
morals  as  in  physics.  The  life  that  seems  to  spring  uncaused 
in  flower  from  the  soil,  or  in  animalculse  in  the  water,  has 
been  brought  to  its  birth  by  wing  or  wind.  The  air  is  full  of 
the  seeds  of  life  ;  they  drop  unseen,  germinate,  grow.  The 
Washingtonian  movement  did  not  spring,  spontaneous,  from 
a  tavern.  Temperance  sentiment  was  in  the  air ;  Christian 
society  was  full  of  it ;  the  seed  was  carried  by  some  invisible 
minister  of  grace  and  goodness  and  dropped  in  the  un- 
promising soil.  The  growth  was  marvellous,  miraculous.  A 
drinking  club  was  wont  to  meet  at  Chase's  tavern  in  the  city 
of  Baltimore.  They  appointed,  probably  in  jest,  two  of  the 
number  to  go  and  hear  a  temperance  lecturer  — Rev.  Matthew 
Hale  Smith  —  in  one  of  the  churches,  and  return  and  report. 


34  PLATFORM   ECHOES. 

On  this  report  a  hot  debate  ensued.  It  waxed  hotter  and 
hotter.  The  interference  of  the  landlord  added  fuel  to  the 
flames.  Six  of  the  club  formed  on  the  spot  a  total  absti- 
nence society.  They  gave  it  the  name  of  the  Washingtouian 
Total  Abstinence  Society.  We  cannot  learn  that  there  was 
any  special  reason  for  the  adoption  of  the  name  Washing- 
tonian.  Washington  was  a  good  name,  and  lent  a  certain 
respectability  to  the  organization.  The  date  was  April, 
1840.  A  drinking  tavern  was  a  strange  manger  for  such  a 
child  to  be  cradled  in;  but  life  is  full  of  such  dramatic 
episodes.  The  six  separated,  agreeing  to  meet  the  next  night 
in  a  carpenter's  shop  ;  each  member  pledged  himself  to  bring 
another  member.  Then  began  the  actual  realization  of 
Edward  Everett  Male's  dream  of  "  Ten  Times  One  is  Ten." 
If  the  upper  classes  had  felt  the  disgrace,  the  lower  classes 
had  felt  the  bondage  of  the  drink.  The  drinkers  became 
apostles  of  emancipation.  Washingtonian  societies  were 
multiplied.  Early  the  movement  was  joined  by  a  re- 
formed drunkard  by  the  name  of  John  H.  W.  Hawkins. 
For  eighteen  years  he  carried  on  an  itinerant  ministry  of 
reform,  speaking  to  mixed  audiences,  but  largely,  if  not 
chiefly,  to  drinkers,  temperate  or  intemperate.  Other  and 
less  notable  apostles  of  the  temperance  movement  sprang  up 
to  follow  in  his  footsteps  and  imitate  his  example.  Temper- 
ance newspapers  were  organized;  most  of  them  have  proved 
ephemeral  publications  ;  but  they  served  their  purpose  while 
they  lived ;  not  always  wisely,  as  we  shall  see,  not  always 
unselfishly ;  but  when  was  ever  any  great  movement  for  a 
reformation  of  the  world,  from  the  days  of  the  Apostles  down, 
free  from  folly  and  from  selfishness  ?  Washingtonian  socie- 
ties have  now  gone  out  of  existence.  If  one  exists  it  must 
be  rather  as  an  anachronistic  curiosity  than  as  a  living  force. 
The  Washingtonian  methods  are  no  longer  in  vogue  to  any 
considerable  extent  among  temperance  workers.  The  era  of 
universal  pledge-taking  has  passed ;  it  can  hardly  be  expected 
to  return.  The  custom  of  considering  a  drunken  life  and  a 
resolution  of  reform  sufficient  guarantee  of  good  conduct  to 
put  the  as  yet  hardly  steadied  inebriate  into  cultured  society, 


INTRODUCTION.  35 

not  to  learn  but  to  teach,  on  the  platform  and  even  in  the 
pulpit,  can  only  be  defended  on  the  ground  that  a  desperate 
disease  justifies  desperate  remedies.  The  fatal  weakness  of 
the  Washingtonian  movement  was  its  false  assumption  that 
every  one  who  wishes  to  break  off  his  drinking  habits  can  do 
so.  It  ignored  the  fact,  attested  by  experience  and  con- 
firmed both  by  pathology  and  moral  science,  that  one  of  the 
worst  effects  of  the  drink  is  an  enervation  and  destruction  of 
the  will  power.  It  was  a  call  to  men  swept  by  on  the 
current  to  swim  for  their  lives,  and  it  counted  every  man 
saved  who  attempted  to  swim.  It  measured  its  work  by  the 
number  of  the  pledges  it  administered.  It  proclaimed  Boston 
reformed  because  "  four  fifths  of  all  the  Boston  drunkards 
had  signed  the  pledge."  Bom  in  a  tavern,  and  apostled  by 
reformed  drunkards,  it  possessed,  as  a  movement,  neither  the 
wisdom  of  philosophy  nor  the  steadiness  of  religion.  But  it 
possessed,  what  was  for  that  epoch  a  more  valuable  quality 
than  either  wisdom  or  steadiness,  enthusiasm.  It  was  dead 
in  earnest.  Its  earnestness  was  that  of  newly  emancipated 
men  who  had  known  in  their  own  experience  the  horrors  of 
the  drink  bondage.  It  furnished  not  instruction,  but  arous- 
ing; and  arousing  was  what  the  community  then  needed. 
It  was  a  crying  in  the  night  of  Fire  !  Fire  !  Wisdom  and 
religion,  who  had  been  busy  with  other  problems,  heard  the 
cry,  woke  up  to  the  awful  conflagration,  and  set  themselves 
to  work  —  quite  too  calmly  and  leisurely  —  to  devise  means 
to  put  out  the  flames;  or,  quite  as  likely,  to  criticise  the 
means  which  others,  more  alive  to  the  present  danger,  were 
employing.  It  is  not  for  us  now  to  go  back  to  the  methods 
of  the  Washingtonians ;  but  we  owe  an  incalculable  debt  of 
gratitude  to  them  for  sounding  the  alarm. 

If  the  Washingtonian  movement  had  done  the  world  no 
other  service,  the  world  would  owe  it  a  large  debt  for  giving 
us  John  B.  Gough. 

John  B.  Gough  was  born  Aug.  22,  1817,  at  Sandgate  in 
the  county  of  Kent,  England.  His  mother  was  a  woman  of 
tenderness  and  piety.  His  father  was  a  discharged  soldier  on 
a  pension ;  a  man  of  unbending  integrity,  but  of  severity 

3 


36  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

of  character,  whose  virtues  were  those  of  a  "good  soldier," 
wrought  in  a  school  of  stern  discipline.  The  family  was  in 
straitened  circumstances;  an  English  village  in  that  day 
afforded  much  less  facility  than  it  does  to-day  for  education  to 
a  boy  so  circumstanced,  and  the  young  lad's  education  was 
of  the  simplest  description.  But  he  evidently  took  full 
advantage  of  such  facilities  as  were  given  him.  He  became 
somewhat  noted  as  a  reader ;  he  gives  in  his  autobiography  a 
pathetic  story  of  the  succor  brought  to  a  weary  mother  and 
an  empty  cupboard  by  his  earning,  or  at  least  winning,  five 
shillings  and  sixpence,  nearly  equal  to  a  dollar  and  a  half  of 
our  money,  and  equivalent  to  a  great  deal  more,  a  gift  to  him 
by  a  gentleman  who  was  pleased  at  his  proficiency.  Mimicry 
was  a  favorite  diversion  with  him,  and  there  must  have  been 
some  native  talent,  for  it  diverted  older  friends  as  well  as 
playmates  of  his  own  age.  He  practised  writing  to  good 
purpose,  too ;  there  lies  before  me  now  a  book  containing 
his  arithmetical  exercises,  done  before  he  had  reached  his 
teens ;  the  pages  are  beautiful  specimens  of  penmanship,  and 
are  almost  literally  without  a  blot  or  an  erasure.  At  twelve 
years  of  age  he  was  apprenticed  to  a  neighboring  family 
about  emigrating  to  America,  who  undertook  to  take  him 
with  them,  teach  him  a  trade,  and  provide  for  him  till  he  was 
twenty-one.  The  issue  was  just  what  it  usually  is  in  such 
cases.  The  family  taught  him  nothing;  for  two  years  he 
had  no  opportunity  to  go  to  either  day  school  or  Sunday 
school ;  he  grew  discontented ;  and  in  1831  left  the  family, 
who  had  a  farm  in  Oneida  County,  N.  Y.,  and  came  to  New 
York  city  to  make  or  mar  his  own  fortunes.  He  was  in  his 
fifteenth  year.  Two  years  later  his  mother  and  sister  joined 
him.  The  story  of  their  want  and  suffering  it  is  needless  for 
our  purpose  here  to  narrate.  Mr.  Gough  has  told  it  with 
terrible  simplicity  in  his  autobiography.  It  is  a  photograph 
of  many  a  life ;  a  tragic  illustration  of  the  declaration,  "  The 
poor  ye  have  always  with  you."  The  mother  died,  arid  was 
buried  in  the  Potter's  Field,  without  even  a  shroud  or  a 
burial  service.  The  young  man  grew  bitter  and  reckless. 
He  alternated  between  his  bookbinder's  trade  and  irregular 


INTEODUCTION.  37 

employment  in  other  directions.  He  spent  a  good  snare  of 
his  earnings  in  drink.  At  this  time  his  dramatic  talent 
opened  a  dangerous  way  for  him  upon  the  stage.  He  was  a 
singer  as  well  as  an  elocutionist ;  perhaps  might  have  won 
a  professional  success ;  but  he  never  gave  himself  to  the 
stage  with  any  settled  purpose.  An  old  programme  of  a 
concert  in  which  he  was  evidently  the  "  star,"  affords  a  fair 
illustration  of  his  professional  position.  I  venture  to  copy  a 
part  of  it :  — 

CONCERT    AT   AMESBUKY. 

Mr.  M.  Gr.  Stanwood  and  Mr.  C.  Warren  respectfully  inform  the  ladies 
and  gentlemen  of  Amesbury,  that  they  will  give  a  concert  at  Franklin  Hall, 
this  evening,  March  22,  for  the  purpose  of  introducing  the  Accordion  into  use, 
as  it  is  thought  by  many  to  be  an  instrument  that  cannot  be  performed  on. 
The  performance  will  consist  of  some  of  the  most  popular  music  from  the 
latest  operas. 

MK.  JOHN  B.  GOUGH, 

the  celebrated  singer  from  the  New  York  and  Boston  theatres,  will  also 
appear  in  his  most  popular  songs. 

The  programme  included  five  songs  and  three  recitations 
by  Mr.  Gough.  The  tickets  were  twenty-five  cents. 

He  married ;  his  sister  had  already  married  and  was  living 
in  Providence  —  still  her  home.  But  marriage  did  nothing 
to  mend  either  his  ways  or  his  fortunes ;  drink  had  become 
an  uncontrollable  passion  ;  his  wife  and  infant  child  died  ;  and 
he  drank  more  deeply  to  drown  his  grief.  When  he  had  no 
money  he  earned  his  drink  by  telling  facetious  stories  and 
singing  comic  songs  to  the  crowd  in  the  bar-room.  More 
than  once  he  meditated  suicide ;  once  almost  accomplished 
it,  but  dashed  the  laudanum  from  his  lips  and  lived  on.  He 
had  one  attack  of  delirium  tremens.  He  had  reached  the 
bottom  of  the  descending  grade ;  he  was  without  friends,  or 
home,  or  hope. 

We  shall  not  attempt  to  tell  here  the  story  of  how  he  was 
rescued  from  this  death  in  life  by  love.  It  is  a  familiar  story, 
which  Mr.  Gough  has  often  told.  A  stranger  arrests  him  on 
the  street  by  a  touch  and  a  word  of  kindness ;  an  invitation 
to  sign  the  pledge  arouses  a  despairing  resolution ;  he  re- 
solves and  signs;  he  knows  not  when  it  is  done  whether  to 


38  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

be  glad  or  sorry ;  a  second  friend  calls  on  him  at  his  bench, 
bringing  words  of  cheer  and  hope ;  he  battles  with  his 
appetite,  a  frightful  battle  but  a  victorious  one ;  the  tem- 
perance meetings  take  the  place  of  the  bar-room  and  the 
theatre ;  temperance  friends  take  the  place  of  the  old 
cronies;  in  their  respect  he  finds  his  own  self-respect;  he 
begins  his  new  life. 

That  he  should  have  been  at  once  invited  to  speak  on 
temperance  platforms  was  as  natural  then  as  it  would  be 
under  similar  circumstances  unnatural  now.  The  temper- 
ance meetings  in  those  daj^s  were  experience  meetings. 
They  were  held  in  district  school-houses,  court-houses,  or 
public  halls.  The  churches  were  occasionally,  but  by  no 
means  very  commonly,  opened  to  them. 

Mr.  Gough  gives  a  humorous  picture  of  one  of  his  first 
experiences  as  a  public  speaker  in  a  district  school-house. 
He  had  not  respectable  clothes  and  was  compelled  to  hide 
them  beneath  an  old  overcoat  snugly  buttoned  up  to  the 
chin.  The  platform  was  close  to  a  well-heated  stove.  The 
heat  of  the  room,  the  active  exertion  of  the  speaker,  and  the 
warmth  of  the  overcoat  threatened  to  dissolve  him.  Tem- 
perate habits  and  a  little  money  from  friends  or  from  school- 
house  lectures  enabled  him  before  long  to  buy  better 
apparel.  Invitations  to  speak  began  to  flow  in  upon  him. 
He  obtained  leave  of  absence  from  his  employers  for  a 
week  or  two,  leaving  a  pile  of  unbound  Bibles  on  his  bench 
to  be  completed  on  his  return.  He  never  after  returned  to 
his  bookbinder's  bench.  Audiences  increased;  reputation 
increased.  Wherever  he  went  he  made  friends.  Society 
opened  its  doors  to  him.  Among  his  earliest  auditors  was  a 
Miss  Mary  Whitcomb,  daughter  of  a  New  England  farmer, 
who  had  left  home  at  eighteen  and  was  alternately  teaching 
and  attending  school  when  she  met  the  young  orator.  She 
was  charmed  with  him  ;  he  with  her ;  on  the  24th  of  Novem- 
ber, 1843,  they  were  married.  She  brought  him  those  stay- 
ing and  steadying  qualities  —  that  strength  of  decision  and 
that  practical  wisdom  — which  the  impulsive,  ardent,  sensi- 
tive orator  needed.  She  added  tenacity  to  his  earnestness. 


INTRODUCTION.  39 

What  the  world  owes  to  Mr.  Gough  it  partly  knows; 
what  it  owes  through  him  to  Mrs.  Gough  it  does  not  suspect. 
With  marriage  the  old  life  faded  gradually  away ;  the  new 
life  dawned  rapidly.  Friends  gathered  about  him;  some 
merely  to  flatter ;  some  really  to  love.  Among  the  fastest  and 
best  of  these  friends  was  Deacon  Moses  Grant,  of  Dr.  Lath- 
rop's  (Unitarian)  church  of  Boston,  who  became  an  adviser 
and  friendly  manager  for  the  young  lecturer.  He  travelled 
through  New  England,  visited  New  York,  Philadelphia, 
Washington,  Richmond.  His  popularity  as  an  orator  in- 
creased ;  his  fame  widened.  The  story  of  the  ovations  given 
to  him  and  the  oratorical  triumphs  won  by  him  it  is  no  part 
of  our  purpose  here  to  relate.  These  are  the  ephemeral  facts 
in  a  noble  and  useful  life;  we  are  here  concerned  only  with 
the  work  done  and  with  the  principles  which  underlie  it. 

Mr.  Gough's  popularity  was  partly  a  result  of  his  prin- 
ciples. He  introduced  a  new  spirit  and  gradually  new 
methods  into  the  temperance  reformation.  He  took  no  part 
in  the  not  uncommon  criticism  of  the  churches.  He  early 
became  a  member  of  the  Mount  Vernon  Church  of  Boston 
-the  Rev.  Dr.  Edward  N.  Kirk's.  He  gradually  lifted  the 
temperance  movement  from  a  mere  moral  reform  movement 
to  a  religious  plane.  He  spoke  in  the  vernacular  of  the  com- 
mon people ;  but  he  did  not  shock  the  sensibilities  of  his 
audiences  by  vulgarities  or  their  charity  by  denunciations. 
The  churches  opened  their  doors  to  him.  In  New  York  city 
he  spoke  in  fourteen  different  churches,  representing  several 
different  denominations.  At  Yale  and  Princeton  he  was 
warmly  welcomed  by  the  students;  in  the  latter  college  he 
was  elected  a  member  of  one  of  the  literary  societies.  His 
youth  —  he  was  about  twenty-seven  —  his  small  stature,  thin 
melancholy  face,  and  bright  eyes  —  which  could  and  still  can 
flash  fire  under  excitement — won  for  him  attention  before  he 
began  to  speak.  His  fluent  language,  his  dramatic  action, 
his  intense  and  impassioned  earnestness,  his  suppressed  feel- 
ing, and  the  lightning-like  rapidity  with  which  he  changed 
the  moods  of  the  audience  with  his  own  from  the  humorous 
to  the  pathetic,  took  all  audiences  by  storm.  We  draw  this 


40  PLATFOKM  ECHOES. 

picture  wholly  from  contemporaneous  newspapers,  and  give 
it  almost  in  the  words  of  the  newspapers  which  describe  him. 
His  career  from  1842  onward  has  been  one  of  steadily 
increasing  oratorical  fame  and  popularity. 

But  his  life  was  by  no  means  merely  an  ovation.  It  was 
yet  more  a  battle.  He  had  enemies  without  and  worse 
enemies  within.  Once  he  broke  his  pledge.  It  was  about 
five  months  after  he  had  taken  it.  A  physician  prescribed 
medicine  for  him  for  an  old  illness.  It  contained  ether  and 
alcohol.  It  awoke  the  old  appetite  and  he  yielded  to  it. 
The  lapse  was  not  a  serious  one  ;  except  as  every  lapse  is 
serious.  He  re-signed  the  pledge,  yielded  to  the  counsels  of 
his  friends,  and  resumed  his  work.  Two  years  and  a  half 
later  he  suffered  a  more  terrible  experience,  which  has  been 
fully  related  in  his  autobiography.  A  stranger  claimed 
acquaintance  with  Mr.  Gough  and  invited  him  to  take  a 
glass  of  soda-water  with  him.  The  invitation  was  accepted. 
The  soda-water  was  drugged,  and  Mr.  Gough,  in  the  state  of 
semi-unconsciousness  which  resulted,  was  spirited  away  and 
kept  from  his  friends  and  the  public  for  several  days.  When 
at  last  found  by  his  friends  he  was  still  suffering  from  the 
effects  of  the  drug.  The  physician  who  was  called  to  attend 
him  pronounced  the  evidences  of  poisoning  unmistakable. 
The  facts  were  fully  investigated  by  the  church  of  which  he 
was  a  member,  and  it  was  unanimously  voted  that  they  called 
for  no  church  censure.  The  reputable  press,  at  the  time, 
almost  without  exception,  expressed  the  same  judgment. 
He  had  been  drugged  and  abducted  for  a  triple  purpose,  — 
partly  robbery,  partly  blackmail,  partly  his  overthrow  as  a 
temperance  lecturer.  The  robbery  was  effected;  the  other 
two  objects  were  not. 

This  attempt  to  ruin  Mr.  Gough  was  somewhat  more  bold 
than  any  other  which  the  drink  traffic  has  ever  made  ;  but  it 
is  by  no  means  the  only  one.  Traps  were  laid  for  him 
again  and  again.  Generally  he  was  wise  enough  to  see 
them,  or  his  friends  were  wise  enough  to  forewarn  him. 
His  wife's  practical  sagacity  saved  him  more  than  once. 
On  one  occasion  a  bottle  of  liquor  was  sent  to  his  room  at  a 


INTRODUCTION.  41 

hotel  by  a  hotel  clerk.  Fortunately,  he  was  in,  followed  the 
waiter  down  stairs,  denounced  the  clerk  to  his  face,  and 
received  an  apology.  Once  in  a  hotel  office  he  heard  a  toper 
declare  that  Mr.  Gough  had  drank  with  him ;  he  walked  up 
to  him,  told  him  he  lied,  and  compelled  him  to  retract  then 
and  there.  Once,  early  in  his  lecture  experience,  a  restaurant 
keeper  of  Newburyport,  —  a  church  member,  —  circulated 
the  report  that  Mr.  Gough  had  come  into  his  restaurant  and 
called  for  and  drank  a -glass  of  strong  beer.  Mr.  Gough's 
friends  got  wind  of  the  story,  got  authority  from  Mr.  Gough, 
went  to  the  pious  seller  of  beer,  threatened  him  with  prose- 
cution, and  extorted  from  him  in  writing  a  most  abject 
retraction.  Of  course  a  hundred  such  stories  have  been 
circulated  to  one  that  has  been  retracted.  We  shall  meet 
with  more  of  this  sort  of  business,  and  worse,  by-and-by. 

Opposition  from  the  liquor-sellers  was  by  no  means,  how- 
ever, the  only  opposition  which  Mr.  Gough  had  to  encounter. 
That  furnished  by  jealous  competitors  in  the  temperance  work 
was  almost  as  bitter  and  much  harder  to  bear.  Men  of  some 
local  celebrity  were  envious  of  his  growing  fame.  They  ac- 
cused him  of  mercenary  motives.  The  average  temperance 
lecturer  received  in  those  days  for  a  lecture  $2  or  $3; 
sometimes  as  much  as  $5.  Mr.  Gough's  account-book  shows 
on  page  after  page  in  those  earlier  years  his  lecture  fees 
as  15,  17,  and  |8.  When  it  rose  to  $10  competing  lec- 
turers began  to  remonstrate.  One  Washingtonian  journal 
undertook  to  fix  the  maximum  rate  for  such  lectures  for  all 
time  to  come.  "Anything  over  five  dollars,"  said  this  poli- 
tical economist,  "  is  too  much,  and  only  tempts  unprincipled 
and  selfish  men  to  advocate  temperance  for  the  sake  of  the 
money."  For  some  time  Mr.  Gough's  fees  remained  at  $10 
and  travelling  expenses.  The  largest  halls  were  filled  at 
25  cents  a  head.  Hall  rent,  fuel,  and  gas  were  not  large 
items ;  the  profits  that  somebody  made  can  be  easily  es- 
timated. These  profits  went  nominally,  and  generally 
really,  into  the  treasury  of  some  temperance  society,  for  Mr. 
Gough's  lectures  were  uniformly  at  first  under  the  auspices 
and  for  the  benefit  of  local  Washingtonian  societies.  But 


42  PLATFOKM  ECHOES. 

there  grew  up  a  reasonable  suspicion  that  it  did  not  always 
all  get  into  the  treasury.  Some  of  Mr.  Gough's  friends 
thought,  after  he  had  lectured  night  after  night  in  New 
York  city  for  $10  a  night,  paying  his  own  hotel-bills,  that 
he  was  not  getting  his  share.  They  hired  a  hall,  announced 
a  "  benefit "  night,  stood  at  the  door  themselves,  took  the 
money,  paid  all  the  expenses,  and  handed  him  over  the  sur- 
plus. It  was  over  $600.  When  the  amount  was  known  it 
did  not  allay  the  jealousy  which  Mr.  Gough's  popularity  had 
aroused.  This  jealousy  was  intensified  by  his  kindly  but 
frank  criticism  of  the  Washingtonian  methods.  Washingto- 
nianism  was  not  a  religious  movement ;  it  made  but  small 
account  of  God,  Bible,  or  immortality.  The  meetings  were  not 
often  opened  with  prayer ;  they  were  often  marred  by  criticisms 
on  the  churches  and  the  clergy,  which  would  better  have 
been  omitted.  Some  of  its  most  active  workers  were  Chris- 
tian men  ;  others  were  infidels.  Mr.  Gough  gradually  passed 
out  of  the  hands  of  the  infidels  into  the  hands  of  the  Chris- 
tians ;  out  of  the  school-houses  into  the  churches.  Attacked 
for  this,  he  replied  with  commendable  candor  that  temper- 
ance was  only  one  virtue,  and  that  no  virtue  can  grow  when 
solitary.  Virtues  grow  in  clumps ;  they  are  gregarious.  The 
only  final  remedy  for  intemperance  is  manhood,  with  all 
which  manhood  involves  and  implies.  He  told  them  frankly 
the  truth.  "In  New  England  there  is  a  class  of  men  who 
are  a  curse  to  the  cause.  This  may  seem  singular,  but  it  is 
nevertheless  true.  They  are  anti-slavery  men,  anti-hanging 
men,  moral  reform  men ;  but,  because  the  ministers  of  the 
Gospel  do  not  think  these  reforms  paramount  to  the  Gospel 
of  Christ,  they  withdraw  from  the  church  and  style  them- 
selves 4  Come-outers.'  "  Any  one  familiar  with  the  history 
of  New  England  from  1840  to  1860  will  recognize  the  truth 
of  this  portraiture,  but  the  men  who  were  photographed  took 
umbrage  at  it.  They  retorted  by  charging  him  with  being  a 
sectarian  ;  with  using  the  temperance  platform  to  promote 
an  orthodox  propagandism.  They  said  that  he  declared  that 
the  end  of  the  drink  was  eternal  death.  They  proved  his 
sectarian  spirit  by  citing  the  fact  that  orthodox  people  ap- 


INTRODUCTION.  43 

proved  his  course  and  flocked  to  hear  him.  One  journal 
cited  in  triumphal  demonstration  a  paragraph  from  the  New 
York  "  Evangelist,"  saying  that  "  Mr.  Gough  intimately  con- 
nects the  temperance  reformation  with  man's  ETERNAL 
interests,  and  wherever  he  goes  greatly  commends  himself  to 
the  religious  community"  The  unsectarian  editor  put  Eternal 
in  capitals  and  the  religious  community  in  italics,  as  we  have 
done,  to  emphasize  the  enormity  of  Mr.  Gough's  offence. 
Another  equally  zealous  advocate  of  unsectarian  temperance 
harangued  him  on  the  iniquity  of  going  about  accompanied 
by  such  an  orthodox  backer  as  Deacon  Grant ;  it  was  rather 
perplexed  to  defend  its  criticism  when  it  discovered  that  Mr. 
Grant  was  a  Unitarian.  The  criticisms  made  on  Mr.  Gough 
by  professedly  temperance  journals  were  by  no  means  merely 
criticisms  on  his  methods.  They  were  assaults  on  his  good 
name.  One  libellous  pamphlet,  gotten  out  in  the  evident 
interest  of  the  liquor  traffic,  was  publicly  sold  at  the  doors 
of  a  prominent  Washingtonian  hall.  When  the  Washingto- 
nians  were  taxed  with  it,  they  replied  that  it  was  not  sold  by 
the  Society.  When  the  scandal  was  circulated  in  New  York, 
at  least  one  journal  damned  him  with  a  faint  defence,  and  an- 
other advised  him  to  abandon  the  lecture-field  and  return  to 
his  bench.  It  is  not  pleasant  to  recall  these  experiences.  But 
history  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  pleasant  or  the  unpleas- 
ant. It  has  only  to  tell  the  truth.  It  must  not,  however,  be 
forgotten  that  this  is  only  a  part  of  the  truth.  In  spite  of 
blackmailers,  and  backbiters,  and  secret  slanderers,  and  open 
abuse,  Mr.  Gough's  fame  steadily  extended,  his  popularity 
steadily  widened,  and  his  friends  increased  in  number  and 
deepened  in  affection  for  him. 

Meantime  the  same  causes  which  produced  the  temper- 
ance reformation  in  the  United  States  had  operated  in  Great 
Britain.  In  both  countries  the  church  gave  to  it  its  first 
impulse  and  its  first  success.  In  the  United  States  this  was 
given  by  the  Protestant  churches ;  in  Great  Britain  by  the 
Roman  Catholic  church.  Total  abstinence,  which  was  mat- 
ter of  jibe  and  jest  in  Cork  in  1836,  had  grown  by  1845  to 
be  almost  as  popular  a  cry  as  "  Repeal."  The  fame  of  Father 


44  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

Matthew  equalled,  if  it  did  not  eclipse,  the  fame  of  O'Con- 
nell.  The  excitement  wherever  the  eloquent  Capuchin  went 
was  such  as  is  only  possible  in  an  excitable  Celtic  race,  and 
such  as  no  moral  question  has  ever  aroused  among  them  be- 
fore or  since.  In  Ulster  county,  Orangemen  greeted  him 
with  their  Orange  flags,  and  Roman  Catholics  accompanying 
him  greeted  the  hated  symbol  of  Protestantism  with  cheers. 
At  Limerick  the  throng  that  came  to  greet  him  literally 
pushed  a  troop  of  dragoons  into  the  river.  By  1840  it  is 
estimated  that  nearly  2,000,000  persons  had  signed  his  tem- 
perance pledge.  The  immediate  results,  according  to  the 
testimony  of  official  reports,  were  seen  in  other  and  more 
important  points  than  a  mere  roll-call  of  temperance  soldiers. 
Trade  increased;  crime  diminished ;  the  churches  were  filled; 
the  jails  were  emptied.  With  an  increasing  population  the 
committals  for  crime  from  1839  to  1845,  when  the  Father 
Matthew  movement  reached  its  height,  diminished  from 
12,000  to  7,000 ;  capital  sentences  declined  from  66  to  14,  and 
penal  convictions  from  900  in  1839  to  500  in  1845.  England 
felt  the  throb  of  excitement.  Father  Matthew  was  not  only 
thronged  by  crowds,  but  feted  by  the  "  best  society  "  during 
his  visit  to  England  in  1843.  The  picture,  partly  comic, 
partly  pathetic,  which  Mrs.  Carlyle  has  painted  of  herself 
climbing  upon  his  platform  in  her  enthusiasm  to  shake  hands 
with  the  great  orator,  illustrates  the  sort  of  enthusiasm  the 
man  and  his  work  aroused.  The  "  moderation  "  societies 
went  out  of  existence ;  the  total  abstinence  societies  took 
their  place.  The  Presbyterian  Church  of  Scotland  followed 
the  lead  of  the  Capuchin  ;  English  clergymen  followed  a  little 
later ;  physicians  followed  the  ministers ;  and  before  1850  a 
total  abstinence  declaration  had  been  signed  in  England  by 
over  800  ministers  of  different  denominations,  and  a  kindred 
declaration  against  the  use  of  wine,  beer,  or  spirits  in  a  state 
of  health  had  been  given  to  the  public,  signed  by  2,000  medi- 
cal practitioners  of  all  grades,  from  the  court  physician  to 
the  village  practitioner. 

Thus  a  very  vital  and  aggressive  temperance  sentiment 
had  been  already  aroused  in  Great  Britain,  when,  in  the  sum- 


INTRODUCTION.  45 

mer  of  1853,  Mr.  Gough  set  sail  for  his  native  land.  It  was 
his  first  visit.  He  left  it  unfriended  and  alone  in  1829 ;  he 
returned  to  it  twenty-five  years  later  an  orator  with  a  reputa- 
tion which  had  been  borne  across  the  ocean,  at  a  time  when 
not  only  the  Atlantic  was  a  greater  barrier  than  it  is  to-day, 
but  American  reputations  were  less  esteemed  in  Great  Brit- 
ain than  they  are  to-day.  He  stood  in  need  of  rest.  In  the 
three  or  four  months  prior  to  his  sail,  he  had  lectured  ninety- 
three  times  in  ninety-one  days. 

The  early  workers  in  the  temperance  reformation  were 
enthusiasts.  They  believed  in  their  principles,  a  faith  which 
time  has  done  nothing  to  weaken ;  they  had  an  ardent  expec- 
tation that  their  principles  would  speedily  convert  the  world, 
a  hope  which  time  has  done  much  to  cool.  Experience  had 
not  in  1853  proved  that  every  pledge-taker  is  not  necessarily 
a  permanent  total  abstainer.  They  counted  their  converts 
by  their  signatures  —  that  is  by  the  thousands.  They 
thought  the  battle  already  almost  won.  In  America  the 
English  have  the  reputation  of  being  cold  and  phlegmatic. 
The  reputation  is  a  false  one.  An  English  audience  is  much 
more  emotional  and  much  more  demonstrative  than  an  Amer- 
ican audience.  The  temperance  reformation  in  1853  was 
chiefly  confined  to  the  middle  classes.  Since  then  bishops 
and  noble  lords  have  become  both  preachers  and  practisers 
of  total  abstinence.  Sir  Wilfred  Lawson  leads  the  political 
temperance  movement  in  the  House  of  Commons.  One  of 
the  wealthiest  noblemen  in  all  England  sets  his  tenantry  a 
good  example  for  abstinence  from  beer  by  his  own  abstinence 
from  wine.  More  than  one  Oxford  and  Cambridge  professor 
gives  the  movement  a  dignity  in  literary  circles ;  more  than 
one  high  dignitary  gives  it  character  in  the  church.  The 
clergy  have  organized  The  Church  of  England  Temperance 
Society.  This  was  all  unknown  in  1853.  The  temperance 
movement  in  1853  in  England  might  be  justly  characterized 
as  Christianity  was  characterized  by  Paul  in  the  first  cen- 
tury ;  not  many  wise  men  after  the  flesh,  not  many  mighty, 
not  many  noble  were  called.  It  was  essentially  a  middle- 
class  movement.  The  enthusiasm  was  not  always  tempered 


46  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

with  discretion  nor  guided  by  good  taste.  The  coming  of  the 
orator  from  America  had  been  heralded  far  and  near.  Exeter 
Hall,  London,  was  hired  for  a  grand  demonstration.  The 
galleries  were  covered  with  a  cloth  emblazoned  with  the 
legend  "  The  London  Temperance  League."  Two  persons 
were  stationed  on  either  side  of  the  platform  to  wave,  one  the 
American,  the  other  the  British  flag,  as  Mr.  Gough  entered. 
An  extraordinary  ode  was  prepared  for  the  occasion,  printed, 
and  distributed  through  the  hall  to  be  sung.  A  choir  of  five 
hundred  vocalists  had  been  gathered  to  sing  it.  The  first 
stanza  indicates  the  character  at  once  of  the  audience  and 
the  enthusiasm. 

THE  TEMPERANCE  HERO. 

Am.  —  See  the  Conquering  Hero  Comes! 

See,  the  Temperance  Hero  comes ! 
Sound  the  trumpets,  beat  the  drums ! 
Rend  the  air,  in  rapture  sing 
With  heart  and  voice  to  welcome  him ! 

Mr.  Gough  fortunately  got  a  glimpse  of  the  programme 
in  the  committee  room.  He  protested  against  the  perform- 
ance. There  were  enough  sensible  men  on  the  platform  to 
second  the  protest.  The  ode  was  not  sung.  But  one  can 
readily  imagine  the  kind  of  ovation  which  greeted  the  "  Con- 
quering Hero  "  when  he  entered  the  platform  and  faced  the 
audience  whose  poet  had  given  this  interpretation  to  their 
enthusiasm.  The  hall  was  packed  by  an  immense  audience. 
In  August  no  one  is  in  town  in  London.  But  the  audience 
was  not  only  large,  it  was  "  respectable."  This  word,  which 
the  English  reporters  used  to  characterize  the  gathering,  lias 
a  significance  in  England  which  no  untravelled  American  can 
understand.  "  We  were  hardly  prepared,"  said  the  "  British 
Banner,"  "to  see  so  noble  a  gathering  at  this  season  of  the 
year.  It  was  one  which  could  have  been  collected  by  no 
other  than  this  celebrated  stranger."  And  the  "British 
Banner  "  was  thought  by  the  temperance  advocates  to  be  ah 
unfriendly,  rather  than  a  friendly  critic.  It  could  be  defended 
as  friendly  only  on  the  ground  that  "  faithful  are  the  wounds 
of  a  friend."  An  enthusiastic  friendly  audience  is  always 


INTRODUCTION.  47 

more "  difficult  to  master  than  a  hostile  one.  Admiration  is 
the  orator's  greatest  enemy ;  for  to  conquer  his  audience  he 
must  both  forget  himself  and  make  them  forget  both  him 
and  themselves.  The  minds  of  his  auditors  must  be  emptied 
of  all  else  in  order  that  they  may  be  filled  with  the  theme ; 
and  it  is  easier  to  empty  them  of  personal  prejudice  than  of 
personal  enthusiasm.  With  the  instincts  of  a  true  orator, 
which  in  this  respect  are  those  also  of  a  modest  gentleman, 
—  for  we  cannot  doubt  that  Quintillian  is  right  in  declaring 
that  they  are  identical,  —  Mr.  Gough  perceived  that  the 
enthusiasm  of  such  an  audience  could  not  be  sustained.  He 
must  calm  them  before  he  could  inspire  them ;  take  them 
down  before  he  could  elevate  them;  disappoint  them  in  order 
not  to  disappoint  them.  He  must  destroy  their  enthusiasm 
for  him  in  order  that  he  might  arouse  their  enthusiasm  for 
his  cause.  He  began,  as  is  indeed  his  wont,  in  a  conversa- 
tional tone  of  voice.  He  spoke  without  gesture  and  in 
sentences  that  were  almost  commonplace.  His  voice  indi- 
cated none  of  its  astonishing  resources  of  power  arid  pathos. 
He  saw  disappointment  gathering  in  the  faces  of  his  audience. 
Men  behind  him  whispered  to  one  another  "  This  will  never 
do."  But  when  he  had  thus  gently  let  his  audience  down 
from  the  perilous  height  to  which  they  had  climbed,  and  from 
which  they  expected  him  to  take  them  in  still  higher  flights, 
he  had  achieved  the  orator's  always  most  difficult  and  most 
perilous  feat.  The  rest  of  his  victory  was  easy.  How  com- 
plete that  victory  was  is  best  indicated  by  an  extract  from 
the  "  British  Banner  "  of  the  next  day.  The  extract  is  long. 
But  it  affords  an  admirable  pen  and  ink  portrait  of  the  great 
orator  on  one  of  the  most  trying  occasions  of  his  life.  We 
therefore  make  no  apology  for  reproducing  it,  and  no  attempt 
to  condense  it :  — 

Mr.  Gough  is  a  well-adjusted  mixture  of  the  poet,  orator,  and  dramatist  — 
in  fact,  an  English  Gavazzi.  Gough  is,  in  all  respects,  in  stature,  in  voice, 
and  in  force  of  manner  on  a  scale  considerably  lower  than  the  great  Italian 
orator.  Gavazzi  is  more  grand,  more  tragic,  more  thoroughly  Italian,  but 
much  less  adapted  to  an  English  auditory.  In  their  natural  attributes,  how- 
ever, they  have  much  in  common.  If  Gavazzi  possesses  more  power,  Gough 
has  more  pathos.  This  is  the  main  difference,  the  chief  distinction,  and  here 


48  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

the  difference  is  in  favor  of  Gough.  Gough.  excels  Gavazzi  in  pathos  far 
more  than  Gavazzi  excels  Gough  in  power.  Then,  Gough  is  more  moderate 
in  his  theatrical  displays.  He  paints  much  more,  and  acts  much  less  ;  while  as 
to  force  and  general  effect,  he  is,  of  course,  on  high  vantage  ground,  speaking 
his  native  tongue  and  among  his  fellow-countrymen.  He  is  in  this  respect  in 
England  what  Gavazzi  would  be  in  Italy.  Both  find,  and  find  to  an  equal 
extent,  their  account  in  their  histrionic  manner.  The  absence  of  unmitigated 
vehemence  is  highly  favorable  to  the  economy  of  strength,  and  a  large 
measure  of  repose  pervades  the  whole  exhibition.  Resting  himself,  he  gives 
rest  to  his  audience,  and  hence  both  remain  unwearied  till  the  end.  Mr. 
Gough  gave  no  signs  of  fatigue  last  night.  At  the  close  of  nearly  an  hour 
and  forty  minutes,  he  seemed  quite  as  fresh  as  when  he  began,  and  quite 
capable  of  continuing  till  midnight,  cock-crowing,  or  morning  !  No  heat 
even  was  apparent  to  us  ;  perspiration  was  out  of  the  question ;  the  hand- 
kerchief was  never,  that  we  observed,  once  in  requisition  throughout  the 
whole  of  his  surprising  display.  He  resembled  a  clump  of  Highland  heather, 
under  the  blaze  of  a  burning  sun — as  dry  as  powder  !  It  is  as  natural  to  him  to 
speak — and  that  on  a  scale  to  be  heard  by  the  largest  auditory  —  as  to  breathe. 
It  ceases  now  to  be  a  matter  of  astonishment  that  he  makes  so  little  of  stand- 
ing up  to  speak  every  night  in  succession,  for  weeks  together,  and  travelling 
for  that  purpose  one  or  more  hundreds  of  miles  by  day  !  There  is  an  utter 
absence  of  all  mental  perturbation  ;  before  he  commences  there  seems  no 
idea  of  his  being  about  to  do  anything  at  all  extraordinary,  or,  when  he  has 
finished,  that  anything  extraordinary  has  been  performed.  It  seems  to  be  as 
much  a  matter  of  course  as  walking  or  running,  sitting  down  or  rising  up. 
His  self-command  is  perfect,  and  hence  his  control  over  an  assembly  is  com- 
plete. Governing  himself,  he  easily  governs  all  around  him.  It  was  impos- 
sible for  any  man  to  have  been  more  thoroughly  at  home  than  he  was  last 
night.  Like  a  well-bred  man,  once  on  his  feet,  there  was  the  absence  alike 
of  bashfulness  and  impudence. 

The  address  was  entirely  without  order  of  any  sort  —  nay,  for  this  the 
assembly  was  prepared  at  the  outset  by  the  intimation  that  he  had  never 
written,  and  never  premeditated  a  speech  in  his  life  !  Last  night  the  address 
was  a  succession  of  pictures,  delivered  in  a  manner  the  most  natural,  and 
hence,  at  one  time,  feeling  was  in  the  ascendancy,  and,  at  another,  power. 
His  gifts  of  mimicry  seemed  great ;  this  perilous,  though  valuable  faculty, 
'  however,  was  but  sparingly  exercised.  It  is  only  as  the  lightning,  in  a  single 
flash,  illumining  all  and  gone,  making  way  for  the  rolling  peal  and  the  falling 
torrent.  Throughout  the  whole  of  last  night  he  addressed  himself  to  the 
fancy  and  to  the  heart.  We  cannot  doubt,  however,  that  Mr.  Gough  is  in  a 
very  high  degree  capable  of  dealing  with  principles  and  of  grappling  with  an 
adversary  by  way  of  argument,  but  he  adopted  a  different,  and,  as  we  think, 
a  much  wiser  course  for  a  first  appearance.  The  mode  of  address  is  one  of 
which  mankind  will  never  tire  till  human  nature  becomes  divested  of  its  in- 
herent properties.  He  recited  a  series  of  strikingly  pertinent  facts,  all  of 
which  he  set  in  beautiful  pictures.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  unity  of  the 
impression,  while  nothing  could  be  more  multifarious  than  the  means 
•employed  to  effect  it.  It  was  a  species  of  mortar-firing,  in  which  old  nails, 
broken  bottles,  chips  of  iron,  and  bits  of  metal,  together  with  balls  of  lead  — 


INTRODUCTION.  49 

anything,  everything  partaking  of  the  nature  of  a  missile  —  was  available. 
The  compound  mass  was  showered  forth  with  resistless  might  and  powerful 
execution.  The  great  idea,  which  was  uppermost  all  the  evening,  was  the 
evils  of  drinking  ;  and,  under  a  deep  conviction  of  that  truth,  every  man 
must  have  left  the  assembly. 

The  conclusion  to  which  we  have  come,  then,  is  that  the  merits  of  Mr.  Gough 
have  been  by  no  means  over-rated.  In  England  he  would  take  a  stand  quite 
as  high  as  he  has  taken  in  the  United  States.  There  is  no  hazard  now  in  say- 
ing that  there  will  be  no  disappointment.  He  will  nowhere  fail  to  equal,  if 
not  to  surpass,  expectation  ;  and  his  triumph  will,  among  Englishmen,  be  all 
the  more  complete  from  the  utter  absence  of  all  pretension.  His  air  makes 
promise  of  nothing  ;  and  hence  all  that  is  given  is  so  much  above  the  contract. 
It  is  impossible  to  conceive  of  anything  more  entirely  free  from  empiricism. 
From  first  to  last,  it  is  nature  acting  in  one  of  her  favorite  sons.  Oratorically 
considered,  he  is  never  at  fault.  While  the  vocable  pronunciation,  with 
scarcely  an  exception,  is  perfect,  the  elocutionary  element  is  in  every  way 
worthy  of  it.  He  is  wholly  free,  on  the  one  hand,  from  heavy  monotony, 
and,  on  the  other,  from  ranting  declamation,  properly  so-called.  There  is  no 
mouthing  —  no  stilted  shouting.  His  whole  speaking  was  eminently  true  ; 
there  is  nothing  false  either  in  tone  or  inflection  ;  and  the  same  remark 
applies  to  emphasis.  All  is  truth  ;  the  result  is  undeviating  pleasure  and 
irresistible  impression.  His  air  is  that  of  a  man  who  never  thought  five 
minutes  on  the  subject  of  public  speaking;  but  who  surrenders  himself  to  the 
guidance  of  his  genius,  while  he  ofttimes  snatches  a  grace  beyond  the  reach 
of  art. 

In  Mr.  Gough,  however,  there  are  far  higher  considerations  than  those  of 
eloquence.  We  cannot  close  without  adverting  to  the  highest  attribute  of  his 
speaking  —  it  is  pervaded  by  a  spirit  of  religion.  Not  a  word  escapes  him 
which  is  objectionable  on  that  score.  Other  things  being  equal,  this  never 
fails  to  lift  a  speaker  far  above  his  fellows.  In  this  respect,  he  is  a  pattern 
to  temperance  advocates.  He  did  not,  to  be  sure,  preach  Christianity  ; 
that  was  not  his  business  ;  but  the  whole  of  his  enchanting  effusion  was  in 
harmony  with  its  doctrines,  always  breathing  its  spirit,  and  occasionally  pay- 
ing it  a  natural  and  graceful  tribute.  At  the  close,  in  particular,  that  was 
strongly  marked.  He  there  stated  that  the  temperance  cause  was  the  off- 
spring of  the  Christian  church,  adding  that  whatever  was  such  was  in  its  own 
nature  immortal,  and  thence  predicting  the  ultimate  triumph  of  the  cause  in 
which  he  was  embarked. 

The  oratorical  victory  at  Exeter  Hall  was  at  once  the 
prelude  to,  and  the  preparation  for,  a  continuous  victory 
throughout  England  and  Scotland.  We  shall  make  no  at- 
tempt to  tell  the  story  of  the  succession  of  ovations  which 
extended  from  London  to  Edinburgh  ;  and  from  August,  1853, 
to  August,  1855.  We  doubt  whether  modern  history  records 
any  case  of  an  oratorical  triumph  more  continuous  and  more 
extraoidinary.  Whitfield  had  the  many-sided  subject  of 


50  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

religion  ;  Mr.  Gotigh  but  the  one  theme  of  temperance.  Mr. 
Beecher's  famous  English  speeches  during  the  civil  war  are 
unparalleled  in  the  history  of  oratory;  but  these  were  but 
six,  while  Mr.  Gough  spoke  almost  continuously  for  two 
years.  Most  of  his  addresses  were  given  under  the  auspices 
of  the  local  temperance  societies,  and  these  generally  made 
arrangements  for  the  signing  of  the  pledge  at  the  close  of 
every  address. 

The  pledge  was  of  a  simple  and  comprehensive  character ; 
the  signer  promised  to  abstain  from  all  intoxicating  liquors, 
and  to  exert  all  his  influence  against  drinking  customs  and 
the  drink  traffic.  How  he  should  do  this  was  left  wholly  to 
his  own  conscience.  The  epoch  of  open  and  violent  opposi- 
tion had  nearly  passed.  The  only  place,  we  believe,  where  Mr. 
Gough  suffered  any  serious  opposition  was  at  Oxford ;  and 
there  the  interruption,  though  serious  enough  to  the  speaker, 
was  only  "  fun  "  to  the  boys.  The  speaker  took  it  in  such  im- 
perturbable good  humor  that  he  was  finally  allowed  to  finish 
his  address  in  peace.  The  religious  prejudice  which  existed 
in  the  United  States  against  the  Washingtonian  movement, 
because  it  was  conducted  by  men  out  of  sympathy  with  the 
churches,  existed  in  England,  and  was  perhaps  intensified  by 
Mr.  Gough's  trenchant  criticisms  on  wine-drinking  among 
the  clergy.  Whatever  the  cause,  the  fact  is  certain  that  in 
not  a  few  localities  the  churches  were  refused  to  the  societies 
which  desired  them  for  his  addresses.  In  Edinburgh  the 
largest  church  was  first  granted,  and  then  under  some  mys- 
terious influence  withdrawn.  At  Cupar  all  the  churches, 
except  the  United  Presbyterian,  which  was  the  least  com- 
modious, were  refused.  The  story  was  then  circulated  that 
the  galleries  of  the  church  were  not  safe.  At  Stirling  the 
largest  church  was  granted,  and  then  under  legal  proceedings 
brought  by  some  pew-holder,  the  nature  of  which  we  do  not 
pretend  to  understand,  an  interdict  was  issued  and  the 
church  was  closed.  At  Dunse  the  churches  were  all  refused; 
the  temperance  people,  not  to  be  balked,  erected  a  pavilion 
capable  of  holding  an  audience  of  three  thousand  persons. 
Mr.  Gough  spoke  in  it  twice,  both  times  to  crowded  au- 


INTRODUCTION.  51 

diences,  though  the  entire  population  of  the  town  is  but  two 
thousand  six  hundred.  The  pavilion  was  then  taken  down. 
We  do  not  recall  any  other  instance  recorded  in  history  in 
which  a  building  was  erected  for  two  speeches  from  a  single 
speaker.  A  greater  opposition  was  that  of  a  serene  and  cul- 
tured indifference  or  a  complacent  ridicule.  Some  one  has 
said  that  all  great  movements  pass  through  three  stages 
before  they  can  reach  their  final  success :  first,  indifference, 
then  ridicule,  then  argument,  then  comes  victory.  The  tem- 
perance cause  had  passed  into  the  second  stage  when  Mr. 
Gough  arrived  in  England.  It  had  already  got  into  "Punch." 
That  journal,  with  a  style  of  wit  somewhat  characteristic, 
expressed  great  alarm  when  it  heard  of  the  anticipated  meet- 
ing at  Exeter  Hall,  and  called  on  the  trustees  to  look  to  the 
drainage,  lest  damage  should  be  done  by  "  a  combination  of 
several  thousand  floods  of  tears  with  the  orator's  flood  of 
eloquence."  Arguments  were  sometimes  attempted;  but 
they  were  not  better  than  the  wit.  "  Why  does  he  not  attack 
the  draper  as  well  as  the  licensed  victualler,"  cried  the 
"  Northern  Examiner."  "  The  love  of  dress  ruins  as  many, 
perhaps,  as  the  abuse  of  drink"  (The  italics  are  our  own.) 
The  strength  of  the  temperance  cause  is  its  weakness.  Most 
causes  can  be  argued ;  there  is  something  to  be  said  on  the 
other  side.  This  cause  has  no  other  side.  Like  the  man 
found  without  a  wedding  garment,  the  liquor  traffic  is  speech- 
less. When  Mr.  Gough  called  on  his  audience  at  Oxford  to 
select  a  representative  of  the  liquor  interest,  and  send  him 
upon  the  platform  for  a  fair  debate,  each  speaker  taking  ten 
minutes,  the  audience  appreciated  the  hit,  if  not  the  point; 
no  advocate  of  the  drink  could  be  found,  arid  Mr.  Gough  was 
allowed  to  finish  his  speech  without  much  further  interrup- 
tion. We  do  not  mean  to  say  that  all  the  principles  incul- 
cated by  so-called  temperance  reformers  are  undeniable  and 
undisputable.  We  do  not  even  mean  to  say  that  all  the 
principles  laid  down  by  Mr.  Gough  are  so.  The  reader  will 
find  his  principles  and  the  reasons  for  them  as  given  by  Mr. 
Gough  himself  in  the  following  pages  ;  they  need  neither 
definition  nor  defence  from  us.  But  we  do  mean  to  say  that 

4 


52  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

the  drinking  customs  of  society  as  they  have  existed,  and 
still  to  a  considerable  extent  exist,  and  the  drinking  traffic  as 
it  is  actually  carried  on,  are  without  either  defence  or  de- 
fender. We  think,  too,  that  all  persons  experienced  in  public 
speaking  will  agree  with  us  that  indifference  is  a  more  diffi- 
cult foe  to  convert  than  open  enmity,  and  that  it  is  always 
easier  to  debate  a  somewhat  doubtful  cause  than  to  present 
the  claims  of  one  about  which  there  is  no  doubt.  We  hardly 
know  what  Christian  ministers  would  do  for  sermons  if  they 
could  not  occasionally  attack  infidel  opinions  or  defend 
Christianity  from  infidel  attacks.  It  is  not  the  least  evi- 
dence of  Mr.  Gough's  oratorical  power  that  he  was  able 
for  over  forty  years  to  argue  for  temperance,  and  against  the 
drinking  customs  of  society  and  the  drink  traffic,  without 
falling  into  the  folly  of  some  of  his  contemporaries  and  de- 
bating with  other  temperance  workers  doubtful  questions  as 
to  ways  and  means.  Mr.  Gough  returned  home  in  August, 
1853,  after  an  absence  of  two  years.  He  had  delivered  over 
four  hundred  lectures.  There  is  no  record,  so  far  as  we 
know,  of  the  number  of  pledges  which  he  had  taken. 

Since  he  first  began  his  temperance  addresses  in  1842  a  great 
change  had  taken  place,  not  only  in  temperance  sentiment, 
but  also  in  temperance  methods.  A  new  party  had  arisen, 
dissatisfied  with  the  slow  methods  of  moral  suasion.  Moral 
suasion  depends  on  persuading  each  individual  to  give  up  the 
drink ;  the  new  party  proposed  to  keep  the  drink  away  from 
all  individuals.  The  necessity  of  a  change  had  been  forced 
upon  temperance  reformers  by  bitter  experience.  Thousands 
of  men  had  signed  the  pledge  only  to  yield  to  the  influence 
of  old  cronies  and  the  attractions  of  the  bar-room,  and  return 
to  drink  again.  The  argument  for  the  change  was  a  simple 
one.  The  drink  traffic  is  a  social  and  political  wrong ;  there- 
fore it  should  be  prohibited.  The  work  of  the  temperance 
reformers  had  prepared  the  way.  The  indignation  of  the 
country  had  been  aroused  against  the  traffic ;  and  not  a  few 
who  were  not  themselves,  on  principle,  total  abstainers,  were 
willing  to  join  in  a  movement  to  close  the  bar-rooms.  Pro- 
hibition had  been  adopted  in  Maine,  Massachusetts,  Rhode 


INTRODUCTION.  53 

Island,  Connecticut,  Vermont,  New  Hampshire,  New  York. 
The  temperance  campaign  had  been  converted  from  a  moral 
to  a  political  campaign.  The  new  movement  had  extended 
from  America  to  Great  Britain.  The  temperance  workers 
there  organized  in  two  wings ;  the  one  working  on  the  public 
conscience  and  public  opinion,  by  pamphlets  and  addresses, 
the  other  for  such  legal  changes  as  would  eventually  bring 
about  the  total  suppression  of  the  liquor  traffic  by  law.  The 
first  were  organized  in  the  "National  and  Scottish  Temper- 
ance League ; "  the  second  in  the  "  United  Kingdom  Alliance." 
The  National  and  Scottish  Temperance  League,  organized  in 
1856,  but  growing  out  of  the  London  Temperance  League, 
organized  in  1851,  was  the  result  of  a  union  of  several  tem- 
perance societies  which  had  previously  done  good  work  in 
temperance  agitation  by  moral  methods  ;  the  Alliance,  organ- 
ized at  Manchester  in  1853,  announced  from  its  birth  its 
purpose  "  to  promote  the  total  and  immediate  legislative  sup- 
pression of  the  traffic  in  all  intoxicating  liquors  as  beverages." 
We  do  not  propose  to  argue  here  the  question  of  prohibi- 
tion. We  do  propose  to  state  what  we  suppose  to  be  the 
principles  which  must  be  applied  in  determining  that  ques- 
tion. We  have  no  doubt  of  the  right  of  the  community  to 
prohibit  the  liquor  traffic.  It  has  a  right  to  do  whatever  is 
necessary  for  its  own  self-protection.  No  private  property 
right  is  superior  to  the  general  right  of  the  community  to 
self-protection.  France  prohibits  the  importation  of  all 
American  pork,  because  some  American  pork  has  trichinae. 
The  United  States  prevents  the  importation  of  Egyptian  rags 
because  the  cholera  is  raging  in  Egypt  and  the  rags  may  be 
infected.  By  the  same  right  the  community  may  prohibit 
the  importation,  sale,  and  manufacture  of  alcoholic  liquors, 
the  general  evils  from  which  to  the  community  far  exceed 
those  threatened  by  either  trichinae  or  cholera.  The  one 
evil  is  remote,  the  other  near ;  the  one  hypothetical,  the 
other  certain ;  the  one  relatively  small,  the  other  gigantic  in' 
its  proportions.  The  right  to  regulate  cannot  be  defended 
without  conceding  the  right  to  prohibit.  If  the  State  has  a 
right  to  prohibit  the  sale  to  minors,  because  of  the  evils  which 


54  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

such  sale  produces,  it  has  a  right  to  prohibit  the  sale  to 
adults  because  of  the  greater  evils  which  that  sale  produces. 
If  it  may  prohibit  the  sale  on  Sundays,  it  may  prohibit  the 
sale  on  week-days.  If  it  may  prohibit  the  sale,  except  by  a 
few  specially  licensed  venders,  it  may  prohibit  the  sale  except 
by  a  few  specially  appointed  agents.  The  right  of  prohibition 
is  established  by  a  hundred  analogies  and  precedents.  It  is 
^indisputable. 

But  right  is  one  thing  and  power  is  another.  This  distinc- 
tion which  Burke  has  so  admirably  illustrated,  has  been  often 
lost  sight  of  in  legislation.  A  mere  majority  may  have  the 
right,  but  it  has  not  the  power,  to  prohibit  the  liquor  traffic  in 
any  free  community.  It  can  undoubtedly  put  a  law  on  the 
statute  book  or  a  clause  in  the  constitution ;  but  this  is  not 
enough.  There  are  some  things  which  a  mere  majority  can 
do ;  there  are  other  things  which  it  is  powerless  to  do.  It 
can  determine  on  new  policies ;  it  cannot  make  new  crimes. 
A  law  prohibiting  any  act  as  criminal  has  no  greater  power 
in  a  free  community  country  than  the  public  conscience  of 
the  community.  In  the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  when  adultery 
was  a  jest  in  society  and  on  the  stage,  a  law  prohibiting  adul- 
tery would  have  been  valueless.  In  Utah  a  law  prohibiting 
polygamy  is  of  no  effect,  even  with  the  United  States  gov- 
ernment and  United  States  judges  to  enforce  it.  A  single 
policeman  can  put  to  flight  a  crowd  of  roughs ;  because  the 
roughs  know  that  he  has  behind  him,  invisible,  the  entire 
force  of  the  moral  portion  of  the  community.  But  he  is 
powerless  to  close  a  liquor  saloon,  if  the  saloon  keeper  knows 
that  the  commumt}^  is  evenly  divided  on  the  question  whether 
his  selling  is  a  crime  or  not.  In  such  a  divided  state  of  pub- 
lic sentiment  the  law  becomes  a  dead  letter.  Grand  juries 
will  not  indict;  district  attorneys  will  not  prosecute;  petit 
juries  will  not  convict ;  judges  will  not  sentence ;  and 
governors  will  pardon.  To  make  any  criminal  law  effective, 
the  conscience  of  the  vast  majority  of  the  community  must 
sanction  it.  The  conscience  of  the  vast  majority  has  not  yet 
been  educated  to  the  point  of  regarding  the  liquor  traffic  as 
a  crime.  It  is  so  regarded  by  only  a  small  majority  even  in 


INTKODUCTION.  55 

the  most  temperate  States,  with  perhaps  the  single  exception 
of  Maine;  in  most  of  the  States  not  even  a  small  majority  so 
regard  it.  A  change  in  the  public  conscience  must  precede 
any  effectual  change  in  the  public  law. 

We  believe  that  these  principles  are  not  only  sound  but 
self-evident.  We  shall  leave  our  readers  to  ascertain  for 
themselves  Mr.  Gough's  position  on  this  matter  from  his  own 
words  in  the  pages  of  this  volume  ;  but  this  we  understand 
to  be  substantially  his  position.  From  the  very  earliest  he 
had  claimed  that  the  liquor  traffic  had  no  moral  right  to 
exist.  His  motto  had  been  —  to  quote  his  own  words  — 
"  kindness,  sympathy,  and  persuasion  for  the  victim,  for  the 
tempter,  law."  His  aim  had  been  —  we  quote  his  own  words 
again  —  "not  only  prohibition,  but  annihilation."  But  he 
had  never  been  an  active  prohibitionist.  His  critics  afterward 
declared  that  "  he  was  no  enthusiast  in  his  attachment  to  the 
cause  of  prohibition."  If  by  this  they  meant  that  he  had 
never  been  an  enthusiastic  laborer  in  the  cause  of  immediate 
law  reform,  the  statement  is  undoubtedly  correct.  He  had 
been  an  enthusiast  in  the  work  of  changing  public  sentiment. 
He  had  no  fear  but  that  when  public  sentiment  was  made 
right  the  rectifying  of  the  law  would  follow.  It  was  declared 
of  him  that  he  had  even  said,  "Do  not  expect  prohibition 
until  you  have  four  fifths  of  the  community  on  your  side." 
Whether  Mr.  Gough  ever  did  say  this  we  do  not  know.  It 
was  attributed  to  him  by  an  assailant ;  and  anything  attri- 
buted to  him  by  an  assailant  is  presumably  false.  On  the 
other  hand,  Mr.  Gough  was  a  sensible  man,  and  this  is  a  very 
sensible  remark.  We  have  but  one  criticism  to  make  upon 
it.  We  doubt  whether  a  majority  of  four  fifths  is  quite 
enough  to  ensure  the  success  of  a  prohibition  policy.  We 
should  ourselves  be  inclined  to  call  for  a  larger  majority. 

Mr.  Gough,  returning  to  the  United  States  at  almost  the 
very  time  that  one  of  the  foremost  advocates  of  prohibition 
was  setting  sail  for  England,  found  in  New  England  the 
prohibition  policy  adopted  on  the  statute  books  and  disre- 
garded in  execution.  The  policy  Avhich  ruled  in  the  Eastern 
States  was  the  policy  of  the  voter  who  sarcastically  remarked 


56  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

that  he  was  uin  favor  of  the  Maine  law  and  against  its  ex- 
ecution." It  had  been  repealed  in  Maine,  but  the  prohi- 
bitionists felt  confidence  that  it  would  be  re-enacted  with 
more  stringent  provisions  the  following  year ;  and  they  were 
right.  It  has  never  been  repealed  there  since.  But  it  was 
either  ill-executed  or  not  executed  at  all  in  Massachusetts, 
Rhode  Island,  Connecticut,  New  Hampshire,  and  Vermont. 
In  New  York  it  had  been  declared  unconstitutional  by  the 
Court  of  Appeals.  The  confident  assertion  that  it  would  be 
re-enacted  by  the  people  of  that  State  has  not  proved  true. 
That  State  has  never  again  given  a  majority  nor  even  an  in- 
fluential minority  for  prohibition.  Mr.  Gough,  finding  this 
condition  of  affairs,  in  writing  to  a  friend  in  England,  told 
him  the  facts.  He  kept  no  copy  of  the  letter.  The  letter 
itself  was  lost  or  mislaid.  His  friend  gave  certain  portions  of 
it  to  the  public  as  containing  matter  of  public  interest.  The 
published  portions  of  this  letter  were  as  follows :  — 

The  cause  in  this  country  is  in  a  depressed  state ;  the  Maine  law  is  a  dead 
letter  everywhere,  —  more  liquor  sold  than  I  ever  knew  before  in  Massa- 
chusetts, —  and  in  other  States  it  is  ahout  as  bad.  Were  it  not  that  I  feel 
desirous  of  laboring  with  you  again,  I  should  be  inclined  to  ask  for  the  loan 
of  another  year  to  labor  here.  I  never  had  so  many  and  so  earnest  applica- 
tions for  labor ;  and  the  field  is  truly  ready,  not  for  the  sickle,  but  for  steady, 
persevering  tillage;  but  we  shall  leave  our  dear  home  in  July,  with  the 
expectation  of  laboring  with  you,  as  far  as  health  and  strength  will  permit 
for  the  next  three  years.  .  .  . 

I  see  that  Neal  Dow  is  to  be  in  England.  I  am  glad.  You  will  all  like 
him ;  he  is  a  noble  man,  a  faithful  worker.  He  can  tell  better  than  any  other 
man  the  state  of  the  Maine  law  movement  here,  and  the  cause  of  the  uni- 
versal failure  of  the  law  to  produce  the  desired  results. 

Mr.  Gough  was  very  severely  criticised  for  writing  this 
letter.  We  are  unable  to  see  the  justice  of  the  criticism. 
Parties  were  divided  in  England,  as  in  America,  on  the  ques- 
tion whether  the  chief  work  of  the  temperance  reformers 
should  be  moral  or  legal ;  whether  they  should  work  on 
public  opinion  or  on  Parliament.  This  was  an  important 
question.  There  was  every  reason  why  Mr.  Gough  should 
give  to  his  friends  in  England  the  benefit  of  American  ex- 
perience. There  was  absolutely  no  reason  why  he  should 
not.  The  recipient  of  the  letter  has  also  been  severely  criti- 


INTRODUCTION.  57 

cisecl  for  giving  it  to  the  public.  It  is  certainly  true,  as  a 
general  thing,  that  private  letters  should  not  be  published. 
But  it  is  a  rule  which  has  many  exceptions.  The  expression 
of  opinion  by  a  well-informed  temperance  reformer  respect- 
ing the  actual  results  of  a  new  temperance  experiment  would 
seem  to  constitute  such  an  exception.  There  was  nothing  in 
the  paragraph  published  of  a  personal  nature  ;  nothing  which 
Mr.  Gough  might  not  have  said  in  public  ;  nothing  which  he 
did  not  afterwards  say;  nothing  of  a  secret  or  confidential 
nature. 

But  the  publication  of  this  innocent  letter  produced  a 
most  tremendous  excitement  in  temperance  circles  in  Great 
Britain.  One  cannot  read  the  pages  on  pages  of  newspaper 
correspondence  to  which  it  gave  rise  without  a  feeling  of 
commingled  astonishment  and  amusement  that  so  small  a 
spark  should  have  kindled  so  great  a  fire.  Neal  Dow  was 
just  arriving  in  Great  Britain  when  this  letter  was  given  to 
the  public.  The  "Temperance  Alliance"  was  just  inaugu- 
rating a  political  temperance  campaign,  with  him  for  the  chief 
speaker.  They  chose  to  regard  this  letter  as  a  direct  assault 
on  them  and  their  methods.  They  declared  that  it  "  was  not 
worthy  of  notice,"  and  then  ransacked  America  with  letters 
and  circulars  to  disprove  it.  They  declared  of  Mr.  Gough 
that  "  upon  prohibition  he  was  not  and  never  was  supposed 
to  be  an  enthusiast ; "  that  his  statement  was  "  entirely 
untrue,  as  a  very  little  inquiry  would  have  led  Mr.  Gough  to 
know ;  "  "  that  no  one  even  now  really  believes  the  statement 
that  Mr.  Gough  has  made ;  for,  fortunately,  it  is  so  mon- 
strously absurd  that  no  one  can  believe  it,  even  when  they 
try  to  make  others  swallow  the  camel ; "  "  that  it  must  have 
been  written  by  an  individual  who,  at  the  time  of  writing, 
did  not  understand  what  he  was  saying."  The  excuses  made 
for  Mr.  Gough  by  his  critics  were  more  aggravating  than 
their  accusations ;  their  charity  was  harder  to  bear  than  their 
malice.  One  attributed  it  to  his-  "  dramatic  imagination ;  " 
another  remarked  that  he  was  not  an  authority  on  questions 
of  fact;  a  third,  that  he  probably  wrote  it  "in  a  fit  of  un- 
reasonable depression  ;  "  a  fourth,  that  it  ought  to  be  excused 


58  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

because  it  was  in  a  private  letter  not  intended  for  publica- 
tion. The  "  Glasgow  Commonwealth,"  however,  surpassed 
all  the  rest  in  the  kindness  of  its  explanation :  "  All  his 
friends  know  that  he  is  subject  to  fits  of  severe  mental 
depression ;  in  short,  he  has  not  so  fully  recovered  from  the 
effect  of  stimulants  as  to  escape  from  the  peculiar  malady 
commonly  called  the  4  blues.' ''  In  the  midst  of  this  excite- 
ment Mr.  Gough  arrived  in  Liverpool  to  enter  on  a  second 
temperance  campaign  which  had  been  arranged  for  before  his 
departure  for  America  the  year  before.  We  do  not  need  to 
repeat  here  the  evidences  adduced  by  him  in  support  of  his 
statement,  nor  that  furnished  by  his  opponents  in  refutation 
of  it.  It  was  made  very  clear  that  there  was  a  very  decided 
difference  of  opinion  in  the  United  States  respecting  the 
efficacy  of  prohibition  and  the  permanence  of  the  political 
victories  already  won.  Letters  were  published  by  Mr.  Gough 
from  leading  ministers,  lawyers,  senators,  and  representa- 
tives, temperance  workers,  prosecuting  attorneys,  and  one 
governor,  fully  sustaining  his  declaration.  The  "  blues " 
appeared  to  be  epidemic  in  New  England.  Letters  were 
published  of  equal  number,  if  not  of  equal  weight,  upon  the 
other  side.  It  is  needless  now,  thirty  years  after,  to  compare 
the  testimony  of  these  witnesses.  History  has  determined 
the  question  on  which  they  differed. 

Prohibitory  laws  were  enacted  in  Maine,  Vermont,  New 
Hampshire,  Rhode  Island,  Connecticut,  and  New  York.  Pro. 
hibition  is  no  longer  maintained  in  any  of  these  States, 
except  in  Maine  and  Vermont.  The  State  of  Maine  has 
but  one  city  of  more  than  twenty  thousand  inhabitants ; 
the  State  of  Vermont,  none.  In  the  former  State  the  pre- 
liminary work  of  education,  before  the  prohibitory  statute 
was  adopted,  was  thoroughly  done  by  sowing  the  State  with 
temperance  literature  from  the  New  Hampshire  border  to  the 
Aroostook.  Prohibition  prohibits  in  Maine  because  public 
sentiment  regards  the  drink  traffic  as  a  public  curse.  Both 
parties  sustain  it.  The  conditions  which  Mr.  Gough  de- 
mands have  been  secured.  Four  fifths  of  the  community 
condemn  the  liquor  traffic.  But  even  in  Maine  it  is  doubt- 


INTRODUCTION.  59 

ful  whether  prohibition  has  been  truly  successful ;  while 
outside  of  Maine  and  Vermont  it  has  been  generally  aban- 
doned. It  has  given  place  in  the  other  New  England  States 
to  local  option.  There  is  no  present  prospect  of  its  revival 
in  New  York  State.  It  is  still  somewhat  of  an  experiment 
in  Kansas  and  in  Iowa,  and  in  many  cities  of  the  latter  State 
is  openly  ignored.  It  has  commanded  a  large  vote  in  Ohio,  but 
the  vote  is  a  long  way  from  the  "  four  fifths  "  which  give  pro- 
hibition its  moral  power  in  Maine.  Prohibition  may  be  the 
ultimate  form  which  liquor  legislation  will  assume  in  this 
country.  That  is  a  question  on  which  opinions  may  well 
differ;  and  it  is  one  not  necessary  for  us  to  discuss  here. 
We  are  writing  history,  not  philosophy;  and  as  matter  of 
history  there  can  be  no  question,  in  the  light  of  all  that  has 
occurred  since  1857,  that  the  temperance  cause  was  entering 
at  that  time  politically  upon  a  period  of  reaction  and  depres- 
sion, and  that  the  Maine  law  had  not  proved  a  success,  and 
was  not  likely  to  prove  a  success  until  an  enormous  amount 
of  preliminary  agitation  and  education  had  been  first  done. 
Even  if  history  had  proved  Mr.  Gough  mistaken,  his  mis- 
take would  have  been  poor  justification  for  personal  abuse. 
But  to  a  perfect  storm  of  abuse  he  found  himself  subjected 
on  his  first  landing  in  Liverpool.  All  the  slanders  in 
America  were  showers  compared  with  the  steady  and  per- 
sistent deluge  of  attack  poured  upon  him.  He  met  a  number 
of  his  friends  at  a  public  breakfast  on  his  arrival,  and  in  a 
speech  of  considerable  length,  and  of  a  much  more  philo- 
sophical cast  than  is  customary  with  him,  he  defined  his 
position.  He  repudiated  with  considerable  vigor  the  apolo- 
gies which  had  been  made  for  him.  The  fact  that  his  letter 
was  a  private  letter  not  intended  for  publication  he  refused 
to  accept  as  a  shield.  "  If  a  man,"  said  he,  "  is  a  liar  to  his 
friend,  he  is  a  liar  to  the  public."  He  declared  himself  a 
believer  in  the  principles  of  prohibition.  He  paid  a  hand- 
some tribute  to  "our  noble  friend  and  coadjutor,  Neal  Dow." 
He  read  a  number  of  letters  from  distinguished  temperance 
men  from  various  parts  of  the  United  States  testifying  to  the 
facts  as  he  had  portrayed  them  in  his  letter.  He  declared 


60  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

that,  since  his  character  had  been  impugned,  his  character 
must  be  justified.  His  friends,  by  resolutions  unanimously 
passed,  fully  and  heartily  vindicated  him.  With  this  he  pro- 
posed to  leave  the  question  and  go  on  with  his  work.  But 
there  were  those  who  were  determined  that  it  should  not 
be  left ;  and  since  neither  open  argument  nor  public  abuse 
could  efface  the  impression  which  Mr.  Gough  had  produced, 
or  impair  his  influence,  they  set  themselves  to  do  it  by  pri- 
vate slander.  The  leader  in  this  attempt  was  Dr.  F.  R.  Lees, 
a  representative,  perhaps  the  most  prominent  representative, 
of  the  rival  temperance  society,  the  "  United  Kingdom  Al- 
liance." 

Of  all  the  influences  which  demoralize  and  destroy  charac- 
ter, we  are  inclined  to  regard  partisanship  as  the  most  subtle 
and  therefore  the  most  dangerous.  It  corrupts  the  best 
natures ;  it  enlists  the  higher  virtues  on  the  side  of  falsehood 
and  inhumanity;  it  perverts  courage  into  cruelty,  serves 
truth  with  falsehood,  makes  conscience  justify  wrong-doing, 
gilds  shame  with  a  false  honor.  It  is  specious,  insinuating, 
subtle,  undermining.  The  partisan  begins  by  identifying 
himself  with  his  party  and  his  cause ;  he  ends  by  identifying 
his  party  and  his  cause  with  the  cause  of  universal  virtue 
and  goodness.  He  makes  it  the  standard  by  which  to  judge 
all  men.  Whoever  supports  his  cause  is  a  saint;  whoever 
opposes  it  is  a  sinner-.  He  makes  it  the  standard  by  which 
he  judges  all  conduct.  Whatever  promotes  his  cause  is  right ; 
whatever  impedes  it  is  wrong.  No  one  of  his  adherents  is  to 
be  censured ;  no  act  of  his  opponents  is  free  from  the  sus- 
picion of  an  evil  motive  and  the  fear  of  an  evil  result.  The 
Jewish  partisan  in  the  time  of  Christ  looked  on  with  approv- 
ing conscience  while  the  mob  stoned  Stephen.  The  Roman 
Catholic  partisan  in  the  sixteenth  century  applauded  the 
rack  of  the  Inquisition  in  Spain  ;  the  sword  of  Alva  in  the 
Netherlands;  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew  in  France. 
It  is  only  in  the  light  of  these  historic  illustrations  that  we 
are  able  to  understand  the  course  of  Dr.  F.  R.  Lees.  He 
was  a  temperance  and  a  prohibition  partisan. 

fn  the   manifold  discussions  provoked   by  Mr.    Gough's 


INTRODUCTION.  61 

letter,  two  articles  which  reflected  on  a  friend  of  Dr.  Lees, 
by  the  name  of  Peter  Sinclair,  appeared,  one  in  the  "  Con- 
gregationalist "  of  Boston,  the  other  in  the  "Edinburgh 
News."  Mr.  Gough  had  nothing  more  to  do  with  the  writing 
of  either  of  these  articles  than  with  the  writing  of  the  New 
Testament.  But  Mr.  Gough  was  from  Massachusetts  and 
the  "  Congregationalist "  was  published  in  Massachusetts ; 
Mr.  Gough  was  in  Scotland,  and  the  "  Edinburgh  News " 
was  published  in  Scotland.  In  the  judgment  of  a  partisan 
this  evidence  was  quite  sufficient  to  justify  the  conclusion 
that  he  inspired  both  the  articles.  Dr.  Lees  determined  that 
they  should  be  withdrawn.  He  proceeded  to  the  accomplish- 
ment of  his  purpose  by  writing  a  letter  to  a  friend  of  Mr. 
Gough,  demanding  their  instant  withdrawal  under  penalty  of 
Mr.  Gough's  exposure.  "  Your  friend  St.  Bartholomew,"  he 
said,  "has  often  been  seen  narcotically  and  helplessly  in- 
toxicated. I  should  have  announced  that  fact  before,  of 
which  I  have  distinct  proof;  but,  out  of  fear  of  injuring  the 
cause,  and  out  of  pity  for  the  saint  himself,  I  forbore,  on 
receipt  of  his  apology.  ...  If  Mr.  Dexter  is  not  instructed 
to  recall  his  article  and  apologize  for  it,  and  to  make  amends 
to  poor  Sinclair,  my  next  letter  to  the  States  shall  contain  all 
the  information  I  possess  anent  St.  Bartholomew  himself, 
whom  I  believe  to  be  as  rank  a  hypocrite  and  as  wretched  a 
man  as  breathes  in  the  queen's  dominions."  When  a  man 
makes  a  threat  of  this  kind  to  extort  money  it  is  called  black- 
mail ;  when  it  is  made  to  extort  personal  influence  there  is 
no  recognized  name  for  it.  This  letter  was  followed  by 
others  in  the  same  line  ;  if  possible  more  explicit  both  in 
their  declarations  and  in  their  threats.  The  writer  declared 
that  the  saint  had  been  often  intoxicated  with  drugs  —  once 
insensibly  so — in  the  streets  of  London,  many  times  help- 
lessly so  in  Glasgow ;  that  there  were  many  witnesses  to  the 
facts ;  that  he  knew  a  score  of  persons  who  had  seen  him 
intoxicated ;  that  two  of  the  occasions  were  within  his  own 
certain  knowledge ;  and  he  challenged  Mr.  Gough  to  bring 
the  matter  before  a  jury  of  twelve  Englishmen,  and  pledged 
himself,  "on  the  honor  of  a  gentleman  and  the  faith  of  a 


62  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

Christian,  to  furnish  names  and  adduce  further  evidence  of 
what  I  have  now  asserted."  Similar  letters  were  written 
to  others  in  England.  A  secret  suspicion  was  thus  set 
afloat  in  the  air.  There  was  but  one  way  to  meet  it ;  Mr. 
Gough  took  that  way.  He  accepted  Dr.  Lees's  challenge, 
sued  him  for  libel,  and  brought  him  before  the  twelve 
Englishmen  of  character  to  make  good  his  assertions.  Dr. 
Lees  had  declared  the  facts  to  be  within  his  own  knowledge ; 
he  had  declared  that  he  could  furnish  the  names  of  a  score  of 
witnesses  cognizant  of  them ;  he  had  invited  the  test.  The 
case  came  on  for  trial.  The  public  interest  was  great.  Mr. 
Gough's  counsel  opened  the  case,  stated  the  facts,  and  called 
Mr.  Gough  to  go  into  the  witness  box.  Mr.  Gough  thus  at  the 
outset  offered  himself  to  the  opposing  counsel  for  a  searching 
cross-examination  into  his  whole  life.  It  was  a  simple  thing 
to  do  if  the  charges  were  wholly  false ;  it  would  have  been  a 
disastrous  thing  to  do  if  there  had  been  any  color  of  truth 
in  them,  any  ground  even  for  a  reasonable  suspicion  of  their 
truth.  Mr.  Gough  carried  with  him  into  the  witness  box  a 
little  hand-bag.  He  swore  positively  that  since  1845  never 
had  wine,  spirits,  or  any  fermented  liquor  touched  his  lips ; 
that  he  had  never  eaten  opium,  bought  opium,  possessed 
opium ;  that  he  had  never  touched  or  owned  laudanum, 
except  on  that  one  occasion  before  his  reformation,  when  he 
stopped  on  the  edge  of  suicide ;  that  the  whole  story,  in  all 
its  parts,  was  an  absolute  fabrication ;  that  he  had  nothing  to 
do,  directly  or  indirectly,  with  the  publication  of  either  of  the 
two  articles  in  the  "  Congregationalist "  and  in  the  "  Edin- 
burgh News."  Then,  in  answer  to  a  question  from  his 
counsel,  he  opened  his  hand-bag  and  took  out  a  little 
memorandum-book.  It  was  one  of  several.  It  then  appeared 
that  ever  since  the  commence*ment  of  his  lecturing  experi- 
ences he  had  kept  a  diary.  In  this  diary  he  entered  upon 
every  day  the  place  where  he  spent  it,  the  persons  with 
whom  he  spent  it,  his  occupation,  and,  if  he  had  lectured,  the 
price  received  for  his  lecture.  He  was  thus  able  to  fix  with 
certainty  his  exact  place  and  the  witnesses  who  could  testify 
to  his  condition  on  every  day.  Slander  was  dumb.  It  dared 


INTRODUCTION.  63 

not  face  that  diary.  A  hurried  consultation  took  place 
between  Dr.  Lees  and  his  counsel.  Then,  in  Dr.  Lees  name, 
and  in  his  presence,  his  counsel  retracted  the  charges.  He 
retracted  the  statement  that  his  client  knew  of  his  own 
certain  knowledge  of  Mr.  Gough's  intoxication.  Everything 
was  withdrawn.  Mr.  Gough  left  the  witness  stand  without 
even  being  cross-examined.  By  consent  a  verdict  was  given 
for  him  of  five  guineas,  a  sum  sufficient  to  carry  costs.  The 
case  was  hardly  thus  closed  before  Dr.  Lees  sent  a  letter  to 
the  papers  declaring  that  the  retraction  made  by  his  counsel, 
in  his  presence,  and  after  consultation  with  him,  was  made 
without  his  authority  and  against  his  protest.  This  state- 
ment was  instantly  and  indignantly  denied  by  his  counsel. 
It  is  difficult  to  account  for  such  a  phenomenon  even  by  call- 
ing it  partisanship.  We  prefer  to  leave  it  unaccounted  for. 
Dr.  Lees  never  paid  the  costs.  No  persuasions  could  induce 
Mr.  Gough  to  take  the  necessary  proceedings  to  compel  their 
payment.  He  had  proved  not  only  the  falsity  but  the  utter 
groundlessness  of  the  slander.  This  sufficed;  he  paid  the 
costs  of  the  proceedings  himself.  But  from  that  day  to  his 
death,  slander  against  his  good  name  never  rose  above  a 
whisper.  Neither  envy,  nor  malice,  nor  even  partisanship 
dares  face  that  diary. 

Since  1858  a  gradual  change  has  taken  place  in  the  meth- 
ods of  temperance  reformation.  No  special  moral  reform 
agitation  can  be  kept  alive  for  an  indefinite  period.  The 
public  weary  of  it.  They  will  not  go  to  hear  repeated  for 
the  fortieth  time  arguments  whose  conclusions  they  anticipate 
before  they  enter  the  hall,  or  experiences  portrayed  with 
which  lectures  and  literature  have  already  made  them  fa- 
miliar. Temperance  meetings  and  temperance  lectures  are 
no  longer  popular.  But  the'  practice  of  total  abstinence  is 
more  common  in  England  and  not  less  common  in  the  United 
States  than  it  was  twenty  years  ago.  Dean  Stanley  has 
borne  striking  testimony  to  the  diminution  of  drinking  habits 
in  the  best  society  in  England.  The  wine  breakfasts  which 
formed  so  striking  a  feature  of  "  Tom  Brown  at  Oxford  "  are 
now  almost  unknown  at  the  Universities.  In  society,  the 


64  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

ladies  leave  the  gentlemen  over  their  wine  at  the  close  of  the 
dinner ;  but  when  the  gentlemen  join  the  ladies  in  the  parlor 
they  are  none  the  worse  for  their  wine.  In  the  United  States 
there  may  be  more  room  to  question  whether  drinking  habits 
are  decreasing  or  no,  because  immigration  counteracts  the 
temperance  work,  and  brings  every  decade  a  new  population 
to  be  converted.  But  the  statistics  indicate  that  the  retail 
trade  in  liquor  does  not  keep  pace  with  the  population.  The 
United  States  government  levies  a  tax  of  $25  a  year  on  all 
retail  liquor  dealers,  including  druggists.  Very  few  escape 
the  payment  of  this  tax ;  the  penalty  is  heavy  and  the  tax  is 
light.  The  figures  at  the  United  States  Treasury  Department 
in  Washington  show  an  absolute  decrease  in  the  number  of 
the  dealers ;  ten  years  ago  there  were  200,676  retailers ;  now 
there  are  195,869.  These  include  the  druggists.  Evidently 
the  apparent  decrease  in  temperance  enthusiasm  does  not  indi- 
cate a  decrease  in  temperance  sentiment,  or  a  weakening  of 
the  temperance  conscience.  It  only  indicates  a  change  in  tem- 
perance methods.  Temperance  is  ceasing  to  be  a  moral  spe- 
cialty. We  have  tried  every  specific  from  constitutional  pro- 
hibition in  Virginia  in  1676  to  the  prayer  crusade  in  Ohio  in 
1874.  Each  has  done  something;  none  has  done  all.  Tem- 
perance is  taking  its  place  where  Paul  put  it,  between  right- 
eousness and  judgment  to  come  ;  where  Peter  put  it,  between 
virtue  and  knowledge.  It  is  coming  to  be  recognized,  it  has 
come  to  be  recognized,  as  a  necessary  element  in  every  manly 
character.  We  are  beginning  to  teach  it  in  our  churches, 
our  Sunday  schools,  our  day  schools.  It  is  growing  from  a 
special  reform  inculcated  by  temperance  lecturers  and  prac- 
tised by  pledged  total  abstainers,  into  a  generic  virtue,  incul- 
cated by  all  our  systems  of  education  and  belonging  to  every 
Christian  gentleman.  This  change  marks  progress  not  re- 
gress. 

In  his  later  life,  Mr.  Gough  ceased  to  be  a  temperance 
lecturer,  but  his  enthusiasm  infused  all  his  lectures  with 
the  principles  and  interests  of  temperance.  Whether  he 
lectured  on  "Life  in  London,"  or  on  "People  I  have  met," 
or  on  "Power,"  he  always  had  something  to  say  on  his 


INTRODUCTION.  (35 

favorite  theme,  arid  his  audience  never  failed  to  receive  some 
warning  against  the  dangers  of  drink,  or  some  inspiration 
toward  the  practice  of  temperance.  He  was  unquestionably 
the  most  popular  orator  in  America,  —  a  popularity  which 
was  steadily  011  the  increase.  It  was  only  on  the  most 
inclement  nights,  and  under  the  most  unpropitious  circum- 
stances, that  the  largest  hall  in  any  town  or  city  of  the  Union 
was  not  filled,  if  John  B.  Go  ugh  was  announced  to  speak. 

Mr.  Gough  always  lectured  at  high  nervous  pressure. 
Before  he  rose  to  speak,  —  in  some  instances,  for  many  hours 
before,  —  he  was  harassed  by  a  fear  of  breaking  down,  a  fear 
which  his  perpetual  success  never  materially  diminished. 
He  had  hardly  begun,  however,  before  he  threw  himself  into 
his  subject  with  an  unsparing  energy,  which  often  left  his 
audience  exhausted  from  mere  sympathy. 

The  poor  air  of  many  of  the  halls  he  spoke  in  and  the 
extreme  warmth  of  his  own  exertions  told  upon  his  physique, 
although  it  did  not  lessen  his  spontaneous  energy.  In  the 
winter  of  1885,  he  was  obliged  to  stop  in  the  midst  of  a  lec- 
ture, exhausted,  if  not  poisoned,  by  the  vitiated  atmosphere 
so  common  to  our  ill-ventilated,  crowded  halls.  It  was  a 
menacing  prophecy  of  what  was  soon  to  come.  On  one 
Monday  evening,  Feb.  15,  1886,  Mr.  Gough  was  lecturing  in 
a  Crowded  church  in  Frankford,  a  suburb  of  Philadelphia. 
During  the  intense,  but  unconscious  exertions  of  his  oratory, 
he  was  stricken  with  apoplexy.  It  was  only  when  he  fell 
prostrate  to  the  floor  that  those  present  realized  his  condition. 
He  was  lifted  up  helpless,  and  from  that  moment  there  was 
no  hope  of  his  further  activity.  He  was  taken  to  the  resi- 
dence of  Dr.  R.  Bruce  Burns  in  Frankford,  and  his  wife  and 
relatives  were  summoned  to  his  bedside.  How  long  he  might 
survive  the  attack,  could  not  then  be  known.  The  stroke, 
however,  proved  fatal ;  and  Mr.  Gough,  three  days  later, 
passed  quietly  away.  He  died,  as  he  would  have  desired,  in 
the  harness.  The  funeral  services,  which  were  held  at  his 
Hillside  home,  on  Wednesday,  Feb.  24,  were  as  simple  and 
unostentatious  as  even  he  could  have  wished.  It  was  incom- 
pliance with  wishes  he  had  often  expressed  in  his  life  that  no 


66  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

public  funeral  was  arranged.  A  few  friends  and  fellow- 
workers  from  abroad  mingled  with  the  personal  friends  of  the 
family  in  Worcester.  Addresses  were  made,  tender,  touching, 
and  simply  affectionate,  by  Rev.  Israel  Ains worth,  of  the 
Boylston  Congregational  Church,  of  the  immediate  vicinity; 
Rev.  Dr.  D.  O.  Means,  of  Worcester,  Mr.  Gough's  pastor; 
Rev.  Dr.  William  M.  Taylor,  of  the  Broadway  Tabernacle 
Church  of  New  York  city,  Mr.  Gough's  lifelong  friend ;  and 
Dr.  George  H.  Gould,  of  Worcester.  At  the  conclusion  of 
the  services,  the  casket  was  taken  to  Worcester,  and  placed 
in  the  Rural  Cemetery  tomb  to  await  final  interment  later. 
Memorial  services  were  held  at  various  points  throughout 
the  country  on  the  Sabbath  following.  Of  these,  the  most 
interesting,  perhaps,  was  the  meeting  held  in  Mechanics' 
Hall,  Worcester,  the  largest  auditorium  in  the  city.  Long 
before  the  hour  appointed,  the  hall  was  filled  to  its  utmost 
capacity.  The  speakers  were  eight  in  number,  and  included 
Protestant  pastors,  Catholic  priests,  a  judge,  a  college  pro- 
fessor, and  a  representative  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A. 

We  shall  not  venture  here  upon  a  description  of  either 
Mr.  Gough's  person  or  his  oratory.  Such  a  description  in 
these  pages,  intended  chiefly  for  American  readers,  would  be 
superfluous.  We  count  him  to  have  been  by  far  the  most 
eminent  dramatic  orator  of  our  time.  In  the  contagious  vital- 
ity of  his  sympathies,  in  the  rapidity  of  his  intellectual  move- 
ment, in  his  power  of  graphic  portraiture  of  character,  in 
the  grace  and  ease  of  his  modest  self-possession  before  an 
audience,  in  the  intensity  of  his  passion,  in  the  tenderness  of 
his  pathos,  in  the  geniality  of  his  humor,  and  in  the  flexibility 
of  voice  and  figure  to  interpret  the  soul  within,  he  was  with- 
out a  superior,  on  platform  or  in  pulpit,  in  either  England  or 
America.  But  we  may  add  a  word  of  characterization  of  the 
man.  In  our  judgment,  he  possessed  qualities  of  a  more 
solid  and  substantial  nature,  which  have  been  dimmed  in 
popular  estimation  by  his  brilliant  oratorical  gifts.  No  mere 
actor  and  story-teller  could  have  kept  the  ear  of  two  nations 
for  forty  years,  as  did  Mr.  Gough.  He  disavowed  being  a  log- 
ical or  philosophical  speaker ;  and  it  is  true  that  his  addresses 


INTRODUCTION.  gf 

were  never  cast  in  a  logical  or  philosophical  form.  But  it 
is  also  true  that  he  possessed  a  mind  whose,  predominant 
characteristic  was  common  sense,  and  a  heart  whose  pre- 
dominant characteristic  was  common  sympathy.  We  believe 
that  the  reader  of  these  pages  will  find  embodied  in  them 
every  fundamental  principle  which  underlies  the  temperance 
movement,  and  conspicuously  absent  from  them  every  idio- 
syncrasy which  has  marred  it.  There  is  no  pathological 
nonsense  about  alcohol  in  its  minutest  quantities  being 
always  a  poison,  a  doctrine  which  would  banish  every 
loaf  of  risen  bread  from  our  tables;  no  exegetical  non- 
sense about  two  kinds  of  Bible  wines, —  one  fermented, 
the  other  unfermented, —  a  doctrine  which  would  banish 
almost  every  scholarly  commentary  from  our  libraries. 
There  is  no  maudlin  charity  for  the  drunkard,  and  no  un- 
christian invective  against  the  moderate  drinker.  There 
is  a  passionate  earnestness  against  the  drink,  and  a 
Christian  sympathy  for  the  drinker.  In  moral  earnest- 
ness Mr.  Gough  has  among  eminent  temperance  workers 
no  superior;  in  large  charity  it  would  be  difficult  to  find 
among  them  his  peer.  He  was  a  temperance  apostle  without 
being  a  partisan.  He  has  done  more  than  any  other  man  to 
lift  the  temperance  reformation  out  of  the  plane  of  a  partisan 
agitation  into  the  higher  plane  of  a  great  Christian  movement 
for  the  regeneration  of  the  individual  and  of  society.  Sensi- 
tive to  a  fault,  with  a  mercurial  temperament  and  an  impres- 
sible nature,  he  was  never  swerved  from  his  settled  convic- 
tions by  temporary  excitement ;  and,  as  we  have  seen,  had 
the  wisdom  to  foresee  the  dangers  which  threatened  the  tem- 
perance cause  from  the  attempt  to  change  a  moral  into  a 
merely  political  agitation,  and  the  courage  to  pursue  his  own 
way  undeviated  by  the  wild  excitement  of  others,  and  unhin- 
dered by  their  opposition  and  abuse.  His  instincts,  his  sympa- 
thies, and  his  mind  were  broad ;  identification  with  one  great 
cause  did  nothing  to  narrow  him.  Without  early  education 
or  early  culture,  he  took  on  both  with  wonderful  facility; 
was  welcomed,  not  merely  tolerated,  in  the  best  society,  and 
moved  in  it  the  recognized  peer  of  gentlemen,  scholars,  and 


68  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

statesmen.  He  never  forgot  the  bitter  and  degrading  expe- 
riences of  his  early  years ;  but  no  vulgarity  in  word  and  no 
discourtesy  or  rudeness  in  act  ever  reminded  others  of  it. 

Greatness  is  quite  as  often  an  accident  as  an  achievement. 
More  men  are  born  great  or  have  greatness  thrust  upon 
them  than  achieve  greatness  by  their  own  effort.  What  we 
call  greatness  is  quite  often,  perhaps  oftenest,  the  result 
of  position  rather  than  of  character.  Mr.  Gough  was 
neither  born  great  nor  did  he  have  greatness  thrust  upon 
him.  He  achieved  it;  achieved  it  in  spite  of  tremendous 
odds ;  in  spite  of  hate  from  enemies,  and  rivalry  and  jealousy 
from  pseudo-friends ;  in  spite,  too,  of  a  shrinking,  a  lack  of 
self-esteem,  a  nervous  timidity  which  is  generally  at  once 
the  greatest  weakness  and  the  greatest  power  of  all  true 
orators.  He  not  only  achieved  greatness,  he  retained  it. 
It  has  been  well  said  that  it  is  more  difficult  to  keep 
money  than  to  acquire  it:  the  remark  is  equally  applicable 
to  influence  arid  position ;  and  no  influence  is  so  difficult  to 
retain  as  that  of  the  popular  orator.  Curiosity  listens  to 
him  at  first  with  enthusiasm ;  but  repeated  hearings  satisfy 
curiosity,  and  enthusiasm  gives  place  to  a  languid  interest. 
If  the  popular  orator  defies  public  sentiment,  it  either  over- 
whelms him,  or  flows  away  and  leaves  him  without  an 
auditor.  If  he  flatters  the  public,  every  new  flattery  must 
surpass  its  predecessor,  till  by  and  by  flattery  dies  of  its  own 
extravagance.  Mr.  Gough  not  only  achieved  a  position  of 
pre-eminence  among  the  orators  of  America  and  England, 
and  this  without  any  advantages  of  either  birth  or  culture, 
but  he  retained  that  position  during  nearly  half  a  century, 
in  spite  of  changes  of  public  thought  and  feeling  respecting 
his  chosen  theme  which  would  have  rendered  the  speech- 
making  of  any  ordinary  man  born  upon  the  platform  in  1840 
an  anachronism  before  1886. 

But  Mr.  Gough  was  not  an  ordinary  man.  He  combined 
qualities  not  often  seen  in  combination.  To  the  thoughtless 
auditor  who  went  to  hear  him  much  as,  if  less  Puritanically 
minded,  he  might  have  gone  to  hear  Booth  or  Irving,  Mr. 
Gough  was  only  a  remarkable  story-teller,  with  an  actor's 


INTRODUCTION.  69 

knack  and  a  rare  versatility  of  emotion  which  mingled  the 
pathetic  and  the  humorous  in  artistic  proportions.  But  to 
one  who  knew  him  at  all  intimately,  and  studied  either  his 
character  or  his  work  at  all  carefully,  it  was  quite  clear  that 
no  such  superficial  estimate  could  account  for  his  hold  upon 
his  audience  for  even  a  single  night,  much  less  for  his  influ- 
ence upon  two  nations  during  forty  years  of  platform 
oratory.  He  had  that  keen  sensitiveness  which  is  the  secret 
of  tact,  that  broad  sympathy  with  men  which  is  the  source 
both  of  humor  and  of  pathos,  that  strong  English  common 
sense  which  often  serves  in  place  of  a  philosophic  culture, 
bat  for  which  no  philosophic  culture  is  a  sufficient  substi- 
tute, and  that  Puritan  conscience  which  gives  the  highest 
form  of  moral  courage.  Without  that  sensitiveness  which 
made  him  always  afraid  to  face  an  audience  or  even  to 
enter  a  room  full  of  company,  he  could  not  have  touched 
men  as  he  did;  for  he  touched  them  because  he  was  so  sensi- 
tive to  their  touch.  Without  his  broad  sympathy  with  men 
he  could  not  have  been  the  dramatic  orator  that  he  was  ;  in 
his  portraiture  of  character  he  appeared  to  his  audience  for 
the  moment  as  the  man  whom  he  was  depicting,  because  he 
for  the  moment  entered  into  the  life,  however  foreign  it 
might  be  to  his  own.  Without  his  strong  English  common 
sense  he  could  not  have  been  identified  with  the  temperance 
cause  for  nearly  half  a  century  and  never  identified  with 
any  of  the  vagaries  and  the  isms  which  have  cast  such  dis- 
credit upon  it.  Without  his  strong  Puritan  conscience  lie 
could  not  have  withstood  as  he  did  the  attacks  of  foes  who 
are  now  forgotten,  or  remembered  only  by  their  unsuccessful 
assaults  upon  him ;  he  could  not  have  remained,  from  his 
first  entrance  upon  the  platform  to  the  day  of  his  death,  a 
firm  adherent  to  the  doctrine  that  temperance  is  a  Christian 
virtue,  that  Christ  is  the  redeemer  from  intemperance  as 
from  every  other  sin,  and  that  every  attempt  at  temperance 
reform,  whether  by  Washingtonian  pledges  or  political 
measures,  if  dissociated  from  the  Christian  faith  and  the 
Christian  Church,  is  doomed  to  inevitable  failure. 

His  home  at  Hillside  was  a  model,  in  neatness,  culture,  and 


70  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

unostentatious  comfort,  of  what  a  Christian  home  should  Le. 
The  winding  avenue  leading  up  to  the  house  suggested  the 
descriptions  which  we  so  often  read  in  English  stones  of  the 
approach  to  an  English  country  seat.  Five  acres  of  lawn 
sloped  down  toward  a  meadow  land,  melting  into  a  valley 
across  which  one  looked  upon  rounded  wooded  hills ;  here 
smooth  and  velvety,  where  the  farmer  gathered  his  grass ; 
there  clothed  with  woods  of  varied  hues  of  green,  where  the 
axe  has  gone  only  to  thin  out  the  underbrush.  Within,  the 
house  spoke  in  plain  language  of  much  attention  to  the  cul- 
ture and  the  comforts  of  life,  and  none  to  its  show  and  its  pre- 
tension. Mr.  Gough's  family  consisted  of  the  wife  and  four 
adopted  daughters  —  he  had  no  children  of  his  own  —  and  an 
adopted  son,  engaged  in  the  orange  culture  in  Florida.  The 
library  of  over  3,000  volumes  was  rich  in  Christian  litera- 
ture and  in  art.  Among  the  books  were  some  rare  vol- 
umes which  are  monuments  to  Mr.  Gough's  personal  skill  in 
his  old  trade  as  a  bookbinder.  He  mounted  with  his  own 
hands,  in  his  summer  recreation,  nine  volumes  of  photo- 
graphs, a  rarely  beautiful  collection  apart  from  its  associa- 
tional  value ;  for  each  photograph  is  a  reminder  of  some 
scene  visited,  some  pleasure  experienced.  Still  more  nota- 
ble is  his  collection  of  Cruikshankiana.  This  collection 
comprises  twenty-six  large  folio  volumes,  and  contains  up- 
ward of  3,700  engravings,  and  more  than  200  original  draw- 
ings. These  are  classified  and  carefully  indexed.  The  work 
was  Mr.  Gough's  summer  recreation  for  years.  The  result 
is  certainly  the  finest  collection  in  existence  of  the  works  of 
the  greatest  master  of  caricature.  Many  other  are  the  me- 
mentoes of  the  work  he  did  and  the  friendships  he  formed, 
which  the  casual  visitor  would  hardly  notice,  but  which  the 
inmate  of  the  household  generally  discovered ;  the  silver  ink- 
stand on  the  library  table  ;  the  set  of  china  manufactured  in 
England,  with  a  portrait  of  Mr.  Gough  on  each  piece ;  the 
collections  of  photographs  presented  by  different  temperance 
societies  ;  the  welcome  signed  by  ministers  of  different  denom- 
inations on  his  return  to  America  after  his  second  visit  to 
England  ;  another  memorial,  signed  by  leading  citizens,  min- 


INTRODUCTION.  71 

isters,  and  temperance  reformers  in  New  England,  New  York, 
New  Jersey,  Penns}Tlvania,  Ohio,  Illinois,  and  Michigan ;  a 
third,  with  l,100,signatures,  presented  to  him  in  Huntingdon- 
shire, England,  each  signature  an  implied  pledge  and  an 
explicit  approval  of  the  principle  of  total  abstinence ;  a 
fourth,  presented  on  behalf  of  a  Christian  temperance  society 
formed  in  London  by  fifteen  young  men  who  had  been  stimu- 
lated to  their  work  by  Mr.  Gough's  addresses,  and  presented 
in  a  chapel  which  had  grown  out  of  the  work  to  which  he 
had  inspired  them ;  several  great  volumes  of  signatures  to 
the  pledge  which  he  obtained  in  his  various  tours,  some 
autographs,  others  duplicate  copies  of  the  lost  originals  — 
these  are  ariiong  the  memorials  which  made  this  Christian 
home  in  some  sense  a  monument  of  a  busy  and  profitable 
Christian  life.  Of  the  home  life  of  Mr.  Gough  with  his 
delightful  family  we  have  no  right  here  to  speak.  For  we 
still  hold,  despite  some  eminent  authorities  to  the  contrary, 
that  the  private  life  of  even  a  public  man  is  his  own,  which 
no  penman  has  a  right  to  invade,  and  which  no  one  has  a 
right  to  invite  the  common  public  to  inspect. 

Among  the  memorials  which  give  this  home  a  peculiar  and 
historic  sacredness  is  a  silver  trowel,  bearing  the  following 
inscription :  — 

"  Presented  to 
J.   B.    GOUGH,  ESQ., 

ON      HIS      LAYING      THE 

CORNER   STONE 

OF 

COFFEE    TAVERN, 
IN 

SANDGATE,  KENT, 

JUNE  2d,  1879." 

This  trowel  suggests  to  him  who  knows  its  history  and 
significance  the  story  of  Mr.  Gough's  life.  On  the  4th  of 
June,  1829,  John  B.  Gough,  then  a  boy  of  twelve  years  of 
age,  took  his  seat  on  the  mail  coach  that  ran  through  the 
then  humble  and  straggling  village  of  Sandgate,  to  join 
the  ship  that  was  to  carry  him  across  the  Atlantic  with  the 
family  to  which  he  was  apprenticed.  The  last  sight  he  saw, 


72  PLATFORM  ECHOES. 

as  the  coach  rolled  away  from  the  village,  was  the  figure  and 
the  tear-bedewed  face  of  his  mother  crouching  behind  the 
low  wall  built  to  guard  the  village  from  the  inroads  of  the 
sea ;  she  had  come  out  to  get  a  last  fond  look  at  her  boy. 
He  left  behind  him  a  loyal  and  loving  mother,  a  sturdy  and 
honest  father ;  but  almost  nothing  else.  It  was  a  poor  home 
he  went  out  from,  and  an  unknown  name  he  bore.  On  the 
5th  of  June,  1879,  fifty  years  almost  to  a  day  from  that 
morning,  he  came  back  to  his  native  village  to  lay  the  corner 
stone  of  a  coffee  tavern  bearing  his  name,  and  reared  partly 
by  funds  raised  through  his  influence.  During  that  fifty 
years  Sandgate  had  grown  from  a  hamlet  of  120  houses,  with 
a  population  of  700,  to  a  thriving  and  growing  town  of  2,400 
population.  A  procession,  including  the  representatives  of 
the  town,  the  local  clergy,  the  military,  and  two  temperance 
societies,  accompanied  the  orator  to  the  place  where  the 
ceremonies  were  to  take  place.  The  onlookers  who  lined 
the  way  greeted  him  with  cheers.  As  he  approached  the 
town  a  body  of  stalwart  men  stepped  forward,  and,  removing 
the  horses,  dragged  the  carriage  containing  the  once  un- 
known boy,  but  now  world-famous  orator,  to  the  site  of  the 
Gough  Coffee  Tavern,  in  the  centre  of  the  village,  where  the 
stone  was  laid,  and  where  a  characteristic  address  was  given, 
to  a  throng  which  not  even  the  pouring  rain  could  disperse. 
These  two  scenes,  framing  in  the  busy  intervening  years,  tell 
their  own  story  of  battle  fought  and  victory  won.  Mr. 
Gough's  life  is  more  eloquent  than  his  oratory.  His  prin- 
ciples, and  the  fidelity  with  which  he  maintained  them, 
have  earned  him  the  respect,  as  his  dramatic  eloquence 
won  for  him  the  admiration,  of  two  nations;  while  his  sym- 
pathy and  helpfulness  have  won  for  him  that  which  is  better 
than  either,  —  the  love  and  blessings  of  unnumbered  myriads 
whom  his  words  have  inspired  with  a  lofty  purpose,  a  noble 
ambition,  and  a  divine  hope,  and  perhaps  rescued  from 
poverty,  degradation,  and  hopeless  wretchedness,  to  a  life  of 
honored  manhood  here,  and  a  hope  of  glorious  immortality 
hereafter. 


• 


CHAPTER   I. 


HABIT  —  ITS    POWER,   USE,   AND    ABUSE  —  HOW   TO    SUBDUE 
A  TYRANT   AND   SECURE  A   FRIEND. 

What  I  Aim  to  Give  —  The  Lessons  of  Experience  —  A  Peculiar  Clock  — 
"  What  on  Earth  will  that  Fellow  do  Next  ?  "  —  "  Oh,  I  Bite  my  Nails  "  — 
Ridiculous  Habits  —  Scene  at  a  Railway  Ticket-Office  —  Memory  —  Recog- 
nizing a  Deserter  After  Thirty  Years  —  Slaves  of  Fashion  —  Description 
of  the  Suit  I  Wore  at  Twenty-One —'The  "  Style"  Forty  Years  Ago  — A 
Stunning  Attire  —  A  Remarkable  Inventory — Avarice — "Only  a  Little 
More  "—  The  Vice  of  Lying  — The  Habit  of  Swearing— The  Boy  Who 
Swore  by  "Old  Dan  Tucker"  — "I'm  Sot,  Yes,  I'm  Sot"— Daniel 
Webster's  Testimony  —  Two  Words  Spoken  in  Season  —  Ruin  and  Re- 
morse—  "By  and  By" — A  Persistent  Lover  —  A  Narrow  Escape  — 
"  Come  Down  Wid  Ye,  Thady  "  —  The  Warfare  of  Life. 


'HE  public  do  not  expect  from 
me  a  literary  entertainment, 
an  intellectual  feast,  or  a 
logical  argument.  I  come 
before  you,  not  to  tell  you 
what  I  have  heard  or  read, 
but  to  tell  that  which  I 
know,  and  to  testify  to  that  which 
I  have  seen.  I  shall  simply  aim 
to  give  some  of  the  results  of  my 
experience  and  observation  during 
the  past  forty-three  years  of  my 
public  life.  The  lessons  I  have  learned  are  the  bitter  les- 
sons of  experience,  hard  to  learn  and  difficult  to  forget.  I 
care  but  little  for  the  unity  of  what  I  shall  say,  and  I  would 

71 


72  WHAT  I  AIM  TO   GIVE. 

as  soon  obtain  the  reputation  a  man  gave  his  clock  as  any 
other.  He  said,  "I  have  a  very  reliable  clock,  for  when 
it  points  at  two,  it  always  strikes  twelve,  and  then  I  know 
it 's  half-past  seven  o'clock."  I  care  but  little  in  what  direc- 
tion I  point  or  how  I  strike,  if  I  can  accomplish  my  purpose 
of  enlisting  sympathy  for  our  cause,  stimulating  investigation 
of  our  statements,  or  exciting  interest  in  our  behalf.  I  may 
be  so  discursive  as  to  remind  you  of  a  man  who  was  con- 
stantly astonishing  his  employer,  a  farmer,  by  doing  strange 
and  unexpected  things.  One  day  the  farmer  went  into  the 
barn,  and  found  his  man  had  hung  himself.  Looking  at  the 
dangling  body  a  few  minutes,  he  exclaimed,  "  What  on  earth 
will  that  fellow  do  next?" 

Among  the  ideas  expressible  by  the  term  "habit"  are  habi- 
tude, rule,  routine,  custom,  practice,  observance,  fashion,  and 
the  like.  I  shall  endeavor,  as  well  as  I  am  able,  to  discourse 
on  habit.  I  shall  probably  utter  many  of  what  critics  call 
commonplaces.  It  is  often  the  custom  to  use  the  term  com- 
monplace with  contempt;  but  are  there  not  fresh  truths, 
delicious  as  flowers  on  the  world's  highway,  often  to  be 
found  in  commonplaces? 

Sir  Walter  Scott,  once  hearing  his  daughter  speak  of  some- 
thing as  vulgar,  asked  her  if  she  knew  the  meaning  of  the 
word  vulgar,  remarking,  "  'T  is  only  common ;  and  nothing 
common,  except  wickedness,  deserves  contempt ;  and  when 
you  have  lived  to  my  years  you  will  thank  God  that  nothing 
really  worth  having  or  caring  for  in  this  world  is  uncommon." 
Habit  is  acquired ;  instinct  is  natural ;  what  we  are  accus- 
tomed to  do  gives  a  facility  and  proneness  to  do.  An  old 
writer  said,  "  All  is  habit  in  mankind,  even  virtue  itself." 

How  insensibly  we  acquire  habits  that  soon  become  an 
annoyance  and  vexation !  Ask  that  young  lady  why  her 
fingers  are  so  marred  and  unsightly.  "  Oh,  I  bite  my  nails." 


RIDICULOUS   HABITS. 


73 


"  Why  do  you ? "  "I  have  the  habit."  "  Why  do  you  not 
stop?"  "I  can't."  "  What  a  bald  spot  you  have  on  the  top 
of  your  head,  why  is  it  ?  "  "  Oh,  when  I  read,  I  twist  the  hair 
round  my  fingers  and  pull  it  out."  "Why  are  you  so  fool- 
ish?" "I  have  the  habit  of  twisting  my  hair  round  my 
fingers  when  I  read,  and  the  habit  is  so  strong  that  I  cannot 
read  with  comfort  unless  I  finger  my  hair."  "What  makes 
your  fingers  so  deformed  with  large  joints  ?  "  "  Oh,  I  pull  my 
fingers  and  crack  them."  "  How  ridiculous."  "  Well,  I  can- 


VICTIMS   OF   HABIT. 


not  help  it.  I  have  acquired  the  habit."  So  of  many  habits, 
trifling  in  themselves,  but  often  sadly  annoying  to  those  who 
acquire  them.  I  heard  of  one  man,  I  believe  it  was  Dr. 
Johnson,  who  had  acquired  the  habit  of  touching  every  post 
he  passed  in  the  street,  and,  if  by  accident  he  missed  one,  was 
uneasy,  irritable,  and  nervous,  till  he  went  back  and  touched 
the  post. 

Locke  says,  "  We  are  born  with  powers  and  faculties,  capa- 
ble almost  of  anything,  but  it  is  only  the  exercise  of  these 
powers  and  faculties  which  gives  us  ability  and  skill  in  any- 
thing, and  leads  on  to  perfection."  Perseverance  in  a  right 
course  of  action  renders  it  more  and  more  certain,  the  longer 
we  continue  it.  Each  act  of  goodness  imparts  new  strength 

to  the  will,  and  renders  it  more  certain  that  the  act  will  be 

* 

repeated. 


74  PATIENCE  AND  POLITENESS. 

Habit  is  second  nature ;  we  can  almost  make  ourselves 
what  we  will ;  how  many  rude,  surly,  ungracious  people  we 
meet  who,  for  the  lack  of  common  politeness,  which  might 
be  acquired,  become  morose  and  disagreeable.  I  know  that 
it  is  more  difficult  for  some  to  be  polite  than  for  others ;  to 
many  persons,  true  politeness,  modest,  unpretending,  and 
generous,  seems  natural,  while  others  must  conquer  the  dis- 
position to  be  surly,  before  they  can  be  civil.  To  be  polite 
under  all  circumstances  requires  patience  and  self-control. 
We  hear  the  remark  that  such  a  man  —  a  conductor,  for  in- 
stance —  is  uncivil,  when,  if  you  could  know  all  the  petty 
annoyances,  the  silly  questions  asked,  vexations  by  ignorant, 
foolish,  and  nervous  passengers,  combined  with  the  care  and 
responsibility  of  an  important  train,  the  wonder  perhaps 
would  be  that  he  is  civil  at  all.  Yet  we  do  come  in  contact 
with  bears  in  manners,  men  from  whom  you  cannot  obtain  a 
civil  answer  to  a  civil  question,  who  have  an  idea  that  civil- 
ity is  a  species  of  servility  that  weakens  their  independence; 
but  we  often  expect  too  much,  and  if  we  were  inclined  to 
exercise  the  "charity  that  suffers  long  and  is  kind,"  we 
might  not  find  so  much  fault.  I  sat  once  for  an  hour  in  the 
ticket-office  of  a  railway  station,  and  wondered  how  it  was 
possible  for  the  agent  to  keep  his  temper ;  it  certainly  did 
require  great  self-control  and  patience. 

"  When  does  the  next  train  start  ?  "  "  Two  o'clock  for 
Boston." 

"  What  time  is  it  ?  "     "  Quarter  of  two." 

"  Is  your  time  right  ?  "     "  Yes." 

"  I  want  a  ticket  to  Newton."  "  This  is  an  express  train ; 
doesn't  stop." 

"  Don't  it  stop  anywhere  ?  "     "  Stops  at  Framingham." 

".  Can't  I  stop  at  Newton  ?  "     "  No." 

"  When  does  the  next  train  go  ?  "     "  Four  o'clock." 


AN  EXASPERATING  TRAVELLER. 


75 


"  Does  that  stop  ?  "     "  Yes." 

"  How  long  does  it  take  to  go  to  Newton  ?  "     "  An  hour 
and  a  half." 

"  Can't  I  go  by  the  express  ?  "     "  That  train  don't  stop  at 
Newton." 

"  Well,  give  me  a  ticket.     How  much  ?  "     "  One  dollar." 
"  Is  that  a  good  bill  ?  "     "  Yes." 

"When  did  you  say  the  train  started?" 
"  Express  at  two  ;  the  other  at  four." 

"  Express   don't   stop 
at  Newton  ?  "     "  No." 


^ 


A  MAN  WE  OFTEN  MEET. 


"  The     other     does  ?  " 
"  Yes.     Please  stand  out 
of  the  way." 

"  Well,  you  need  n't  be  so  huffy 
about  it." 

All  this  while  other  passengers  are 
calling  for  tickets  and  asking  ques- 
tions. How  can  a  man  speak  very 
civilly  on  such  an  occasion  ? 
It  is  hard  to  be  civil  under  certain  circumstances.  "  Why 
don't  you  take  off  your  hat  ?  "  said  a  lord  to  a  boy  struggling 
to  lead  a  calf.  "  So  I  will,  if  your  lordship  will  hold  my 
calf."  An  eccentric  gentleman  offered  this  apology  for  not 
taking  off  his  hat  while  speaking  to  George  the  Third,  when 
hunting  :  "  My  hat  is  fastened  to  my  wig,  my  wig  is  fastened 
to  my  head,  I  'm  on  a  high-trotting  horse,  and  if  anything 
goes  off,  we  must  all  go  off  together."  There  is  a  power  in 


76  "OH,  I  FORGOT!    I  FORGOT!" 

suavity,  and  a  charm  in  simple  politeness,  far  greater  than  all 
the  studied  manners  of  the  most  polished  courtier,  and  it  will 
pay  in  the  long  run  to  cultivate  the  habit  of  politeness. 

Memory  itself  may  be  greatly  strengthened  by  habit. 
What  mistakes  and  errors  are  made,  and,  I  might  say,  crimes 
are  committed,  through  forgetfulness.  "  Oh,  I  forgot !  I  for- 
got ! "  Yes,  forgot  to  post  the  letter  to  the  physician  when 
that  poor  girl  lay  in  an  agony.  She  is  dead ;  the  doctor 
failed  to  reach  her  because  you  forgot.  "  I  forgot  to  give 
the  message."  Yes,  a  message  that,  if  delivered,  would  have 
brought  that  only  son  to  the  deathbed  of  his  mother,  and  she 
died  without  a  sight  of  her  boy,  crying  for  him  to  the  last. 
"I  forgot;"  is  that  an  excuse?  I  know  some  inherit  a 
remarkable  power  of  memory  and  never  forget.  When 
Douglas  Jerrold  was  a  midshipman,  he  was  left  in  command 
of  the  gig  while  the  commander  went  up  into  the  town.  Two 
men  asked  permission  to  go  ashore  to  buy  fruit.  "  Yes,  you 
may  go,  and  you  may  as  well  buy  me  some  apples  and  pears." 
"  All  right,  sir."  The  men  deserted,  and  Jerrold  was  dis- 
graced. Thirty  years  after,  in  London,  he  saw  a  baker  in  the 
street,  carrying  a  load  of  bread  on  his  head.  Walking  up  he 
laid  his  hand  on  the  baker's  shoulder,  and  said :  "  I  say,  my 
friend,  don't  you  think  you  have  been  rather  a  long  time 
after  that  fruit?"  "Lor',  sir,  is  that  you?"  After  thirty 
years'  separation,  they  recognized  each  other  at  once.  Some 
people  can  find  room  in  their  memory  for  but  one  thing  at  a 
time.  "  Where  is  the  medicine  you  were  to  bring  from  the 
city?"  "Oh,  I  forgot  that:  I  was  to  get  some  fruit  and 
medicine ;  I  have  the  fruit,  but  I  forgot  the  other."  It  is 
our  duty  to  set  ourselves  diligently  at  work  to  remedy,  as  far 
as  we  may,  even  a  natural  defect ;  and  I  believe  a  man  can 
overcome  a  natural  propensity  and  remedy  a  natural  defect 
if  he  sets  himself  to  work,  by  God's  help  and  the  power  of 
his  own  will. 


SLAVES  OF  FASHION. 


77 


What  absolute  slaves  we  are  to  fashion  or  custom  !  Health, 
comfort,  usefulness,  even  life,  sacrificed  in  obedience  to  its 
commands.  Fashion  bids  that  a  young  lady  must  yield  the 
beautiful  symmetry  of  her  figure  to  be  squeezed,  braced,  com- 
pressed, and  laced,  till  the  "human  form  divine"  becomes  so 
distorted  that  a  sculptor  would  copy  it  only  as  a  deformity. 
For  fashion's  sake  we  invite  pain,  from 
corns  on  the  toes  to  neuralgia  in  the 
head;  we  court  the  ridiculous,  and  wel- 
come the  absurd.  We  must  all  con- 
form to  fashion.  Better  be  out  of  the 
world  than  out  of  the  fashion.  Few 
young  men  would  have  the  courage  to 
wear  in  the  street  now  the  suit  I  wore 
at  twenty-one ;  a  plum-colored  coat 
with  high  collar,  tight  sleeves,  narrow 
body, —  so  narrow  that  to  get  into  it 
you  must  obey  the  directions  of  the 
negro,  "  Now,  sah,  first  shove  one  arm 
in,  then  t'other,  and  give  one  general 
conwulsion," — bright  brass  buttons, 
long  slender  tails ;  with  trousers  the 
same  color  as  the  coat,  fitting  tightly 
to  the  skin,  strapped  down  so  close  that,  in  sitting,  you  felt 
that  something  must  go  somewhere  (and  something  was  con- 
tinually going  somewhere ;  a  man  never  fell  down  and  got 
up  whole  in  those  days);  —  a  figured  velvet  waistcoat,  so 
contrived  as  to  exhibit  a  broad  domain  of  shirt-front ;  with 
a  collar  stiff  and  starched,  pushing  out  some  inches  in  ad- 
vance of  the  chin  ;  and  a  silken  stock  buckled  so  tight  as  to 
prevent  seeing  the  feet  without  an  effort ;  boots  narrow  and 
pointed,  with  room  enough  beyond  the  toes  for  part  of  a 
pound  of  cotton ;  and  a  hat  very  stove-pipey,  inclining 


"  STYLE." 
FORTY  YEARS  AGO. 


78 


A  REMARKABLE  INVENTORY. 


slightly  to  the  bell,  and  broad  in  the  brim.  Yet  that  was 
"  style  "  forty  odd  years  ago,  and  the  present  fashion  would 
have  been  considered  as  absurd  then  as  that  is  now. 

I  am  not  sufficiently  acquainted  with  ladies'  dress  for  criti- 
cism ;  but  I  know  their  apparel  requires  ribbon,  insertion, 
braid,  lace,  silk,  whalebone,  steel  springs,  buttons,  muslin, 
tassels,  velvet,  beads, 
spangles,  worsted, 
fringe,  tatting,  ruffles, 
gimp,  flounces,  founda- 
tions, tucks,  puffs, 
skirts,  ruches,  waists, 
belts,  padding,  collars, 
cuffs,  frills,  under- 
sleeves,  spit  curls, 
nets,  veils,  rosettes,  Jl 
bracelets,  finger  and 
ear  rings,  mitts,  furs,  J| 
capes,  victorines,  muffs, 
gloves,  switches,  plum- 
pers, chains,  brooches, 
pins,  hooks  and  eyes, 
plumes,  hair-pins, 
combs,  powder,  rouge, 
artificial  flowers,  chate- 
laines, fans,  parasols, 
handkerchiefs,  perfum- 
ery, newspapers,  and  many  other  articles  too  numerous  to 
mention.  An  old  man  with  a  rag-bag  in  his  hand,  picking 
up  pieces  of  whalebone  and  other  matters  in  the  street,  was 
asked,  "How  did  all  those  things  come  here?"  "Don't 
know;  I  'spect  some  unfortunate  female  was  wrecked  here- 
abouts somewhere." 


SCENE  OF  THE  WRECK. 


THE  VICE  OF  LYING.  79 

But  there  remain  habits  to  speak  of,  more  serious  in  their 
influence  on  the  moral  part  of  man's  nature  than  those  men- 
tioned. Avarice,  which  has  been  termed  "  criminal  poverty," 
which  makes  men  grow  mean  and  cruel,  and  starve  and  pinch 
themselves,  to  heap  up  }rellow  dust,  scratching  and  scraping 
for  that  "  little  more,"  only  a  "  little  more,"  with  hearts  as 
hard  as  the  coin  they  love  and  as  tough  as  the  bag  that  holds 
their  treasure.  A  man  with  many  thousand  dollars,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  church  in  a  country  town,  who  is  perfectly  satisfied 
with  the  minister,  regularly  contributes  five  cents  for  himself 
and  wife  to  the  support  of  the  church  every  sabbath.  This 
is  a  fact,  and  no  fiction. 

The  habit  of  lying  is  acquired  in  the  first  place  by  a  want 
of  reverence  for  truth  as  truth ;  for  instance,  in  the  desire  to 
create  a  sensation  by  an  exaggeration  of  the  simple  facts, 
then  by  occasional  equivocation,  until,  at  length,  the  vice  of 
lying  becomes  a  second  nature.  A  man  may  become  a  colos- 
sal liar  who  would  lie  for  the  mere  sake  of  lying.  In  these 
days  of  sensationalism  the  danger  is  greatly  increased. 
There  is  a  great,  difference  between  relating  an  anecdote 
merely  for  the  purpose  of  illustration,  as  a  parable  or  alle- 
gory, and  the  exaggeration  of  a  simple  fact.  A  person 
addicted  to  lying  related  a  story  to  another  which  made  him 
stare.  "  Did  you  ever  hear  that  before  ?  "  said  he.  "  No,'* 
said  the  other,  "did  you?"  I  once  read  of  a  prisoner  who 
was  charged  with  highway  robbery.  During  the  trial  he 
roared  out,  "I'm  guilty  !  "  when  the  jury  immediately  pro- 
nounced him  not  guilty.  "  Why,  gentlemen,"  said  the  judge, 
"  did  you  not  hear  the  man  declare  himself  guilty?  "  "  Yes, 
my  lord,  and  that  was  the  reason  we  acquitted  him,  for  we 
know  the  fellow  to  be  such  a  notorious  liar  that  he  never 
told  a  word  of  truth  in  his  life."  Some  of  these  men  might 
be  agreeable  companions,  but  the  great  drawback  to  your 


80  A   TENDER  CONSCIENCE. 

enjoyment  of  their  society  is  the  want  of  confidence  in  their 
statements. 

The  habit  of  profane  swearing  is  gradually  and  almost  in- 
sensibly acquired.  Many  a  swearer  can  remember  when  he 
shuddered  at  an  oath,  and  he  who  now  uses  the  name  of  the 
Creator  and  Redeemer  in  the  most  horrible  and  blasphemous 
associations  learned  to  swear.  In  his  false  estimate  of  man- 
liness he  uttered  his  first  oath  perhaps  with  a  trembling 
heart,  conscience  upbraiding  him;  but  among  those  who 
swear  he  must  swear  too.  There  is  no  habit  more  foolishly 
and  insanely  wicked  than  this.  All  sin  is  folly,  but  this  is 
pure  folly  and  wickedness.  Men  generally  sin  for  profit  or 
pleasure,  for  preferment,  or  indulgence  of  some  propensity, 
but,  to  use  the  language  of  an  old  minister,  "  To  swear  is  to 
bite  the  bare  hook  of  God  Almighty's  wrath  ;  there  is  no  bait 
to  tempt  to  it ;  it  is  simply  wicked." 

I  know  that  some  make  the  excuse  that  they  swear  with- 
out thinking.  If  they  do,  what  a  fearful  illustration  of  the 
power  of  habit;  but  men  generally  swear  because  they  be- 
lieve it  is  wicked.  Hear  a  profane  man  when  he  is  angry; 
his  rage  boils  over  in  oaths  and  curses.  A  boy  was  crying 
bitterly.  His  mother  asked,  "  What 's  the  matter  ?  "  "I  've 
been  swearing."  "  What  did  you  say  ?  "  "  Oh  !  I  've  been 
swearing,  oh  dear  !  "  "  Well,  my  child,  what  did  you  say  ?  " 
"  Oh  !  oh  I  mother  —  I  got  mad,  and  I  said,  '  Old  Dan 
Tucker.'  "  His  conscience  troubled  him  for  the  intention  to 
say  something  wicked.  Young  men,  it  is  neither  noble,  heroic, 
nor  manly  to  swear.  It  is  a  mean,  offensive  sin.  To  swear 
in  public  is  an  outrage  that  no  true  gentleman  will  be  guilty 
of.  Swear  not  at  all.  Break  the  habit  if  you  have  acquired 
it ;  conquer  it  you  can.  I  asked  a  boy  who  had  overcome 
the  propensity,  "  Did  you  find  it  hard  ?  "  "  Oh,  yes,  and  it 
comes  hard  now."  I  well  remember,  in  a  shop  where  I 


WINNING  HIS  FIRST  VICTORY. 


81 


worked,  profanity  was  so  frightfully  rampant  that  an  agree- 
ment was  made  that  sixpence  should  be  paid  as  a  fine  for 
every  oath.     One  young  man,  a  notorious  swearer,  was  fined 
|    >>  several  times, 

^  :??<  ^  once  for  say- 

ing Avith  a  n 
oath  that  he 
would  not  be 
fined  again. 
One  day  h  e 
m  e  t  with  a 
provoking  ac- 
cident at  his 
;  work,  and  the 
ready  oath 
^  sprung  to  his 
lips.  The 
men  stopped 
their  work  to 

THE   BOY   WHO   SWORE   BY    "  OLD   DAN    TUCKER."  watdl     him. 

He  set  his  teeth,  he  stamped  his  feet,  his  face  grew  red,  the 
veins  in  his  forehead  swelled,  he  clenched  his  fists,  he  seemed 
choking,  and  at  last  he  cried  out,  "  Constamparampus ! 
There  !  I  did  n't  swear,  did  I  ?  I  feel  better."  It  was  his 
first  struggle  against  the  habit,  and  it  seemed  easier  for  him, 
after  that,  to  refrain. 

Many  men  pride  themselves  on  their  firmness,  which  is  a 
name  they  give  to  an  acquired  obstinacy.  "  You  cannot 
move  me,"  as  the  old  man  said,  "  I  'm  sot,  yes  I  'm  sot,  and 
when  I  'm  sot,  a  meetin'-house  ain't  setter !  "  Such  a  man 
doesn't  hold  opinions,  but  opinions  hold  him;  when  he  is 
possessed  of  an  error,  it  is  like  the  evil  spirit,  cast  out  with 
difficulty;  what  he  lays  hold  of  he  never  loses,  though  it 


82  PERSONAL  RESPONSIBILITY. 

help  to  sink  him ;  the  slighter  and  more  inconsistent  his 
fancies  are,  the  tighter  he  clings  to  them.  Some  of  them 
would  fall  to  pieces  if  he  did  riot.  He  opposes  you  in  things 
indifferent  and  frivolous,  and  would  suffer  martyrdom  rather 
than  part  with  the  least  scruple  of  his  prejudices.  He  under- 
stands no  man's  reason  but  his  own ;  his  understanding  is 
as  hard  as  Pharaoh's  heart,  and  is  proof  against  argument ; 
with  him,  a  prejudice  once  conceived,  or  a  passion  once 
cherished,  will  resist  all  rational  argument  for  its  relinquish- 
ment.  "  He  will  deny  all  he  has  never  witnessed,  and  refuse 
to  witness  all  he  is  resolved  to  deny." 

In  many  cases  the  recklessness  of  youth,  indulged  with- 
out restraint,  leads  to  a  habit  of  systematical^  ignoring  all 
individual  responsibility.  Every  man  has  felt,  more  or  less, 
the  consciousness  of  his  personal  responsibility  to  God  and 
his  fellow-men  pressing  upon  him  ;  the  world's  great  men 
have  acknowledged  it  as  of  the  highest  importance.  Some 
years  ago,  when  Mr.  Webster  was  Secretary  of  State,  he  was 
dining  with  a  party  of  friends,  b}^  whom  great  efforts  had 
been  made  to  draw  him  into  conversation,  but  without  suc- 
cess. At  last  one  of  the  gentlemen  turned  to  him  and  said, 
-'Mr.  Webster,  I  want  you  to  tell  me  what  was  the  most 
important  thought  that  ever  occupied  your  mind."  Mr. 
Webster  slowly  passed  his  hand  across  his  forehead,  looked 
over  the  table,  and  said,  "The  most  important  thought  that 
ever  occupied  my  mind  was  that  of  my  individual  responsi- 
bility us  a  man  to  God !  " 

In  too  many  cases  a  persistent  course  of  selfishness  and 
self-gratification  stifles  and  chokes  this  sense  of  obligation, 
and  men  grow  into  the  habit  of  living  simply  in  reference  to 
themselves  and  the  present  life.  "  Oh,  if  I  was  ever  lucky 
enough  to  call  this  estate  mine,  I  should  be  a  happy  fellow," 
eaid  a  young  man.  "And  then?"  said  a  friend.  "And 


BATTLING  FOR  VICTORY.  83 

then  ?  Why,  then  I  'd  pull  down  the  old  house  and  build  a 
palace,  have  lots  of  prime  fellows  around  me,  keep  the  best 
wines  and  the  finest  horses  and  dogs  in  the  country." 
"  And  then?"  "Why,  then  I'd  hunt,  and  ride,  and  smoke, 
and  drink,  and  dance,  and  keep  open  house,  and  enjoy  life 
gloriously."  "And  then?"  "Why,  then,  I  suppose,  like 
other  people,  I  should  grow  old  and  not  care  so  much  for 
these  things."  "And  then?"  "Why,  then,  I  suppose,  in 
the  course  of  nature  I  should  leave  all  these  pleasant  things 
and  —  well,  yes — die  !  "  "  And  then  ?  "  "  Oh,  bother  your 
4  thens ; '  I  must  be  off."  Many  years  after,  the  friend  was 
accosted  with,  "God  bless  you;  I  owe  my  happiness  to 
you!"  "How?"  "By  two  words  spoken  in  season  long 
ago,  — '  and  then  ? ' ' 

Would  I  could  reach  some  young  man  who  is  drifting  into 
the  dead  sea  of  an  aimless  life,  —  an  aimless  existence.  What 
a  mockery  of  life  !  Who  can  describe  the  fearful  void,  the 
yearning  for  an  object,  the  self-reproach  for  wasted  powers, 
the  weariness,  the  loathing  of  pleasure  and  frivolity,  the 
consciousness  of  a  deadening  life,  a  spiritual  paralysis,  with 
no  response  to  human  interests,  no  enthusiasm,  no  sympathy 
with  noble  deeds;  when  the  world  becomes  a  blank,  and 
nothing  is  left  but  the  heavy  benumbing  weight  of  personal 
helplessness  and  desolation.  Better,  nobler,  to  stand  face  to 
face  with  wrong  and  sin,  battling  ever  for  victory,  than  as  a 
human  machine  in  one  daily  round  of  self-indulgence,  dul- 
ness,  and  folly.  Oh,  let  my  pulses  swell  like  a  torrent,  and 
pour  themselves  out  till  they  cease.  Let  heart  and  brain 
work  their  work.  Be  my  life  short  and  swift  as  a  shuttle 
through  the  loom.  Let  it  be  a  life  full,  strong,  rich.  Though 
it  be  but  a  day  only,  it  shall  be  as  one  of  the  days  of  God, 
which  are  as  a  thousand  years. 

Time   would   fail   to   enumerate   the   many  habits   that, 
6 


84  A  PITIFUL  SPECTACLE. 

acquired  and  indulged,  mar  the  beauty  and  destroy  the  sym- 
metry of  the  true  man.  Oh,  if  we  could  find  one  man  free. 
Is  there  such  a  one  ?  Stand  up  !  thou  grand  image  of  a  true 
manhood.  Raise  that  face,  sublime  in  its  gentleness,  with 
the  pure  lips  through  which  the  foul  impieties  of  boasting- 
youth  have  never  yet  passed,  with  the  eyes  that  have  not 
scorned  to  let  their  lashes  droop  over  a  tear  of  sorrow  or 
sympathy  for  others !  Lift  up  the  hand  which  never  used 
its  strength  against  a  weaker  fellow-creature!  Stand  forth 
in  the  midst  of  a  debased  and  degraded  world,  adorned  with 
integrity,  sobriety,  chastity,  and  all  virtue  !  Stand  up  !  noble 
and  meek-hearted,  and  show  us  the  likeness  of  a  man.  We 
love  to  contemplate  such  a  vision,  and  turn  away  to  look 
sadly  on  men  as  they  make  themselves. 

Is  it  not  pitiful  to  see  the  many,  many  slaves  of  evil 
habit,  pressing  hard  into  the  ranks,  and  enlisting  under  the 
black  banner  of  intemperance,  licentiousness,  and  the  hosts 
of  debasing,  degrading  passions,  that  cling  to  and  destroy  the 
victim,  alluring,  fascinating  like  the  fabled  vampire,  fanning 
to  sleep  with  its  broad  wings  while  he  draws  vitality  at  every 
breath  ?  Look  at  him !  Stand '  up,  if  you  can,  victim  of 
vice !  Stand  up,  if  you  dare,  slave  to  intemperance  and  its 
companion  sins !  See  how  habit,  with  its  iron  net,  envelops 
him  in  its  folds !  He  curses  his  misery,  while  he  hugs  the 
chains  that  bind  him ;  he  frets  his  very  heart-strings  against 
the  rivets  of  his  fetters,  forever  protesting  against  the  fierce 
over-mastering  curb-chain  that  galls  him,  yet  forever  sub- 
mitting to  receive  the  horrible  bit  in  his  mouth.  Behind 
him  lowers  the  thunder-cloud  of  retribution  ;  before  him  is 
the  smooth  steep  whose  base  is  ruin  and  despair.  By  his 
own  will  he  rushes  on;  every  particle  of  the  propelling  power 
emanates  from  himself;  yet  he  shrieks  in  agony  as  he  remem- 
bers his  former  hopes  and  ambitions. 


RUSHING  TO  DESTRUCTION. 


85 


Then,  in  the  noisy  revel,  the  debauch,  and  fierce  excite- 
ment of  drink,  he  tries  to  forget  his  being.  Memory  is  his 
foe,  so  he  flies  for  false  solace  to  the  wine-cup.  He  stuns  his 
enemy  at  evening,  but  she  rends  him  like  a  giant  in  the 
morning.  Once  he  could  pray;  once  he  loved  purity;  once 
he  drank  from  "the  fountain-head  of  peace.  He  thinks  of 
this  and  it  maddens  him.  The  mother's  hymn  that  once 
lulled  him  to  sleep  now  rings  in  his  ear  and  wakes  him  to 
agony.  His  face  once  bore  God's  image ;  now  the  foul  brand 
of  intemperance  is  on  his 
brow,  sensuality  sits  upon 
his  lip,  the  dull  water  of 
disease  stands  stagnant  in 
his  eye,  and  the  bright 
image  of  God  is  marred. 
Once  purity  was  his  gar- 
ment ;  now  he  is  appa- 
relled in  the  filthy  livery 
of  his  tyrant  master.  He 
bartered  his  freedom  for 
a  lust,  and  now  endures 
unutterable  thraldom.  He  sold  his  birthright  for  a  pleasure, 
and  now  is  cursed  with  a  heritage  of  woe.  He  dissolved  his 
pearl  of  price  in  the  cup,  and  drank  it.  Thus  he  rushes  on, 
scorned  and  despised  by  his  fellow-men,  his  better  nature 
loathing  the  thing  he  has  made  himself,  carrying  a  foretaste 
of  the  undying  worm  within  his  breast,  wrapped  in  dull 
despair,  or  shouting  in  fearful  wildness,  or  laughing  in  the 
glee  of  the  maniac,  shrinking,  shivering,  dreading,  yet  wil- 
fully approaching,  he  staggers  on  the  brink,  shrieking, 
cursing,  reeling  on  the  edge.  With  one  look  upon  the  past, 
the  mighty  deluge  of  sin  rolling  after  him,  he  clasps  his  poor, 
swollen  hands,  and  in  mad  despair  plunges  into  utter  ruin. 


MEMORIES   OF  THE   PAST. 


86  PROCRASTINATION  AND  INDOLENCE. 

Oh,  young  men,  if  you  would  be  great  and  happy,  hold 
the  reins,  assume  and  maintain  the  regal  power  over  your 
passions  and  appetites,  battle  every  evil  propensity  bravely, 
breast  the  tide  of  temptation ;  then  you  will  appreciate  and 
realize  the  truth  and  power  of  Solomon's  declaration,  "  He 
that  ruleth  his  spirit  is  better  than  he  that  taketh  a  city." 

The  habit  of  procrastination  often  causes  vexation,  loss  of 
friends,  and  even  ruin.  How  many  utterly  fail  to  accomplish 
their  life's  work  through  this  habit,  never  doing  what  ought 
to  be  done  at  the  time  it  should  be  done ;  their  life  is  one 
great  neglect.  "  I  intend  to  do  it ! "  It  is  said  that  the  road 
to  a  certain  place  is  paved  with  good  intentions.  Letters  are 
received  ;  I  must  answer  them ;  I  will,  by-and-by.  Days  pass, 
the  by-and-by  is  as  far  off  as  ever,  friends  are  grieved,  business 
disarranged,  losses  are  incurred,  character  is  endangered,  for 
the  lack  of  promptness.  Pass  by  the  house  of  the  procras- 
tinator.  How  dilapidated  and  forlorn !  Why  ?  He  has 
intended  to  repair ;  and  when  the  wind  and  rain  drive  in, 
oh  !  "I  must  do  something  !  I  will  at  once  !  "  Fair  weather 
comes ;  "I  will  by-and-by,"  like  the  Irishman  who  said,  "  Why 
don't  I  thatch  my  roof ?  Because,  when  it  rains,  it's  wet, 
and  I  can't,  and  when  it 's  dry,  it  don't  need  it."  Many  a 
man's  fortune  has  been  marred  by  the  putting  off  till  to- 
morrow what  ought  to  be  done  to-day.  A  large  proportion 
of  men's  sins  are  not  acts  committed,  but  acts  they  have 
failed  to  perform. 

A  habit  nearly  allied  to  this  is  that  of  indolence.  Some 
men  grow  unutterably  lazy.  Thomson,  author  of  "The 
Seasons,"  was  once  found  by  a  friend  in  bed  late  in  the  day. 
"  Why  do  you  not  get  up  ?  "  "  Oh,  I  have  no  motive."  In- 
dustry, promptness,  and  perseverance  are  essential  to  success. 
A  shiftless,  lazy,  unstable  man  never  succeeds,  except  in 
becoming  a  nuisance.  There  is  a  power  in  persistence.  I 


THE  PRACTICE   OF  VIRTUE.  87 

remember  a  Scotch  friend  of  mine  used  to  speak  of  per- 
sistence as  one  of  the  cardinal  virtues.  I  heard  of  a  man 
who  went  courting  every  evening,  a  distance  of  three  miles 
and  back,  for  fourteen  years,  .walking  about  fifteen  thousand 
miles.  He  got  his  wife  ;  and  I  hope  she  was  as  good  as  such 
perseverance  merited.  We  often  say  a  man  "has  made  a 
lucky  hit,"  and  some  men  may,  by  a  bold  venture,  make  such 
a  hit ;  but,  as  a  rule,  it  is  not  accident,  but  a  strong  purpose 
and  patient  industry,  that  helps  a  man  on  in  the  world. 
Read  the  lives  of  great  men,  and  you  read  of  resolution, 
patience,  and  perseverance.  By  long  and  sometimes  painful 
labor  have  they  wrought  a  rich  inheritance  of  thoughts  and 
deeds  for  their  successors,  and  for  themselves  immortality. 

Every  man  who  would  break  a  bad  habit  must  exercise 
patient  persistence,  never  flinching  till  victory  is  gained. 
But  remember  this,  young  men, — habit,  strengthens  with 
age.  In  proportion  to  the  loss  of  shame  at  a  vice  is  the  gain 
of  recklessness  in  pursuing  it.  Many  a  man  reels  through 
the  street,  drunk  at  noon-day,  whose  first  act  of  intoxication 
was  a  mortification  to  his  pride.  The  turning  becomes  more 
difficult. 

The  practice  of  virtue  may  become  a  habit  by  discipline. 
Some  men  become  habitually  truthful,  honorable,  generous, 
and  virtuous,  and  maintain  their  integrit}-  even  to  their  own 
apparent  damage.  A  young  man  was  pointed  out  to  me  with 
the  remark,  "There  is  a  young  man  who  has  come  out  of  the 
army  as  pure  as  he  entered  it."  Among  those  who  shall 
inhabit  the  holy  hill  are  they  who  swear  to  their  own  hurt 
and  change  not.  A  poor  soldier  was  seated  on  the  top  of  a 
stage-coach  at  the  time  when  in  England  the  penalty  for 
overstaying  a  furlough  was  flogging.  These  floggings  were 
very  severe.  Men  have  died  under  the  lash.  He  had,  or 
thought  he  had,  overstayed  his  time,  and  was  resolutely  set 


88 


THE  STORY   OF  THADY. 


on  going  to  his  regiment  with  the  certainty  of  receiving  a 
flogging.  Below  stood  his  mother,  brother,  and  sweetheart, 
all  earnestly  entreating  him  not  to  return  to  certain  and 
severe  punishment. 

"  Come  down  wid  ye,  Thady ;  come  down,  now,  to  your  old 
mother;  sure  it's  flog  ye  they  will,  and  strip  the  flesh  off  the 
bones  of  yez.  Come 
down,  Thady  darlirit." 

"  It 's  honor,  mother 
dear,"  as  he  set  his  teeth, 
and  fixed  himself  more 
firmly  on  his  seat. 

"  Thady,  come  down,  ye 
fool  of  the  world ;  come 
along  down  wid  ye." 

"  It 's  honor,  brother  ; 
it 's  honor,"  sitting  more  erect. 

"O  Thady!  come  down!  sure  it's 
me,  your  own  Kathleen,  that  bids  ye ; 
come  down,  or  ye  '11  break  the  heart  of 
me,  Thady,  jewel ;  come  down,  then." 

"It's  honor,  honor  bright,  Kath- 
leen, darlint,"  as  he  fixed  his  eye 
steadily  before  him. 

"  Come  down,  Thady,  honey." 

"  Thady,  ye  fool,  come  down." 

"  O   Thady,  come  down   to   me ! "   was   the  chorus  from 
mother,  brother,  and  sweetheart. 

"It's   honor,    mother;  it's  my  promise;  it's  honor,  bro- 
ther ;  it 's  honor  bright,  my  own  Kathleen." 

A  gentleman,  making  inquiries,  was  informed  of  the  facts. 

"  When  does  your  furlough  expire,  my  man  ?  " 

"  The  first  of  March,  your  honor,  bad  luck  to  it  of  all  the 


COME  DOWN  WID  YE, 
THADY." 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  LITTLE  THINGS.  89 

black  days  of  the  world,  and  here  it  is  come  sudden  on  me 
like  a  shot." 

"  The  first  of  March,  why,  my  good  fellow,  you  have  a  day 
to  spare  then  ;  to-morrow  is  the  first  of  March ;  it  is  leap- 
year,  and  February  has  twenty-nine  days." 

"  Twenty-nine  days,  is  it  ?  Say  it  again,  you  're  sure  of 
that  same  ?  O  mother  !  mother  !  the  divil  fly  away  with  yer 
old  almanac,  a  base  cratur  of  a  book  to  be  desavin'  me,  after 
living  so  long  in  the  family  of  us." 

Off  he  jumped  from  the  coach,  and 
hugged  mother,  brother,  and  Kath- 
leen. 

"  Hurrah !  my  darlint.  Kathleen, 
dear,  hurrah !  It 's  a  happy  man  I 
am.  God  bless  your  honor,  and  con- 
found the  dirty  old  almanac;  my 
word's  saved!  May  ye  live  a  long 
hundred  years,  and  every  one  of  them 
a  leap-year  !  "  A  "  DESAVIN  CRATUR." 

Some  may  complain  that  I  have  given  undue  prominence 
to  habits  that  are  deemed  trivial ;  but  can  any  habit  be 
deemed  trivial  that  affects  the  character  for  good  or  evil? 
We  grow  into  the  habit,  often,  of  despising  little  things,  and 
yet  some  of  the  greatest  discoveries  have  originated  in  the 
observance  of  familiar  and  simple  facts.  The  greatness  of 
some  of  the  world's  great  men  is  not  so  much  the  utterance 
of  great  thoughts  as  their  readiness  to  detect  the  significance 
of  little  things.  Galileo,  when  eighteen,  saw  in  the  cathe- 
dral at  Pisa  a  lamp  swinging  to  and  fro,  and  from  that  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  the  pendulum  for  marking  time.  Sii 
Samuel  Brown,  by  noticing  a  spider's  web,  conceived  the 
idea  of  the  suspension-bridge.  Seaweed  floating  past  his 
ship  enabled  Columbus  to  quell  the  mutiny  and  discover  the 


90  THE  PATH  OF  DESOLATION. 

new  world.  Franklin's  first  experiments  in  electricity  were 
by  a  kite  made  of  two  sticks  and  a  silk  handkerchief.  The 
first  brushes  of  West,  the  painter,  were  made  from  the  cat's 
tail.  Watts's  first  model  of  the  condensing  steam-engine 
was  made  of  a  syringe.  Professor  Faraday  made  his  first 
experiment  in  an  old  bottle.  Much  might  be  written  on  the 
value  and  importance  of  little  things.  How  little  things 
will  grow,  and  how  mighty  is  an  accumulation  of  little 
things  !  A  flake  of  snow,  how  softly  and  quietly  it  comes ; 
how  small  and  frail  it  is,  breathe  on  it  and  it  is  gone ;  it  rests 
on  yonder  crag,  an  insect  could  brush  it  off  with  its  wing; 
but  another  falls,  and  another,  descending  noiselessly,  till  an 
avalanche  hangs  over  the  valley.  Scientists  have  told  us 
that  even  the  motion  of  air  produced  by  a  human  voice  will 
sometimes  loosen  a  tottering  avalanche  and  send  it,  like  a 
winding-sheet  of  death,  down,  down  !  The  trees  in  its  fearful 
track,  that  have  for  centuries  stood  firm  against  the  mountain 
torrent  and  braved  the  mountain  storm,  with  the  snapping  of 
ten  thousand  roots  and  crashing  of  their  giant  arms,  slip  from 
their  anchorage  and  drift  away !  The  huge  rocks,  ancient  as 
the  everlasting  hills,  roll  from  their  bed  and  join  in  the  ter- 
rible devastation;  the  valley  is  filled  with  desolation,  the 
village  is  lost  in  the  wreck  and  ruin,  and  men  in  after  years 
point  tremblingly  to  the  track  of  the  awful  avalanche. 

There  are  those  who  unfortunately  have  a  constitutional 
tendency  to  weaknesses  or  vices,  and  such  may  ask,  "  If  I 
am  born  with  impulses  and  passions  so  strong,  and,  in  some 
cases,  with  a  will  so  weak,  can  I  be  blamed  for  the  results  ?  " 
Every  man  is  responsible  for  his  voluntary  acts,  whatever 
may  be  the  moving  impulse.  Sin  and  crime  are  always  sin 
and  crime,  whatever  the  constitutional  tendency. 

There  are  facts  to  prove  that  one  man  is  born  with  im- 
pulses and  tendencies  to  particular  forms  of  virtue  and  vice 


THE   WARFARE  OF  LIFE.  91 

stronger  than  others.  The  passions  and  appetites  are  more 
difficult  to  control  in  those  who  have  inherited  them,  for 
instance,  from  parents  who  have  never  checked  them  in  their 
own  lives,  as  the  inherited  appetite  for  drink.  It  is  much 
easier  for  those  who  inherit  a  placid,  even  temperament,  with 
no  strong  emotions,  to  be  orderly  and  virtuous,  than  for 
some  others;  but  all  can — yes,  despite  all  allurements  and 
temptations,  all  can  —  conquer  evil  passions  and  appetites. 
Here  man  differs  from  the  brute ;  for  man  can  be  what  he 
will.  Nothing  reduces  a  man  nearer  to  the  level  of  the  brute 
than  indulgence  in  habits  of  selfishness,  disregard  to  the 
rights  of  others,  vice,  or  immorality.  Life  is  a  warfare. 
To  some  it  is  more  severe  than  to  others ,  but  all  may  fight 
the  good  fight  and  attain  the  reward.  None  are  born  in- 
capable of  virtue,  though  one  may  be  born  with  such  a 
constitutional  tendency  to  wrong  that  his  life  will  be  one 
mighty  struggle  against  the  power  of  evil.  But  is  it  not  a 
glorious  struggle  to  see  a  man  in  God's  name  battling  his 
own  evil  nature  ?  Oh,  it  is  sublime,  this  wrestling  with  an 
evil  desire,  this  crushing  out  a  wicked  passion,  this  mastery 
of  self  by  the  force  of  his  high  resolve  and  the  power  of  the 
mighty  will :  "  I  will  I  I  will !  by  the  help  of  God  I  will." 

To  him  that  overcometh  —  ah,  yes!  glorious  repetition, 
44  him  that  overcometh,"  seven  times  repeated,  overcometh  !  — • 
the  tree  of  life,  safety  from  the  second  death,  the  white 
stone  with  the  new  name,  the  morning  star,  the  white  rai- 
ment, a  pillar  in  the  temple,  a  seat  on  the  throne  with  Him 
in  whose  name  he  has  conquered.  To  him  that  overcometh. 
Then  buckle  on  the  armor,  brave  heart;  stand  firm  in  the 
fight.  If  you  fall,  your  enemies  shall  not  rejoice.  Ay, 
though  you  fall  ten  times,  yet  up  again,  battered,  bruised, 
covered  with  scars  more  glorious  than  were  ever  borne  by 
earth's  greatest  warriors,  till  by-and-by  —  yes,  by-and-by, 


92 


VICTORY. 


standing  erect,  your  armor  dented  and  broken — you  shall 
shout  Victory,  victory !  and  the  angels  will  take  up  the  jubi- 
lant hosanna,  Victory !  victory !  as  you  hang  your  battered 
armor  on  the  battlements  of  heaven,  and,  having  fought  the 
good  fight,  lay  your  laurels  at  the  feet  of  Him  through 
whom  and  by  whom  you  stand  redeemed  forever  from  the 
power  and  dominion  of  every  evil  habit. 


I'1 


LOWER  HALL   IN   MR.    GOUGH'S   HOUSE. 


CHAPTER  II. 


TO    YOUNG    MEN  —  SOWING    THE    WIND    AND    HEAPING    THE 
WHIRLWIND  —  A  TALE   OF  RUIN,  REMORSE,  AND  DEATH. 

Sticking  One's  Hand  in  a  Rattlesnake's  Den —  Beware  —  "  Captain,  There's 
One  of  'Em"  — Sowing  Wild  Oats  — Gliding  Down  the  Stream—  "  Be 
You  a  Drugger?"  —  The  Verdant  Young  Man  in  Search  of  "  Scentin' 
Stuff  "  —Smelling  Round  for  the  Right  Thing  — A  Sniff  that  Astonished 
Him  — The  Story  of  Daniel  Webster's  Classmate  —  How  Webster  Tried  to 
Save  Him  — His  Tragic  Death—"  Get  Up  !  Get  Up  !  The  Train  is  Com- 
ing !"  — Cries  of  Despair  from  the  Pit  —  A  Road  Strewn  with  Spectres  — 
The  Most  Painful  Scene  I  Ever  Witnessed  —  Why  the  Boy  Thrashed  the 
Cat  —  A  Cold  Day  for  Puss  —  An  Unexpected  Scene  at  the  Marriage 
Altar — The  Story  of  Adam  and  His  Whiskey  Jug — Cramming  Adam 
Into  the  Closet  —  A  Laughable  Story  —  A  Story  of  Ruin  and  Death  — 
"Tom,  Old  Fellow,  is  This  You?"  — "Too  Late,  Jem;  Don't  Leave 
Me  "  —  Taking  the  Wrong  Direction. 


NE  favorite  argument  of 
young  men  in  reference  to 
the  use  of  intoxicating  drink 
is,  "  When  I  find  out  that  it 
is  doing  me  an  injury,  then 
I  will  give  it  up."  That  is 
making  an  admission  and 
coming  to  a  conclusion. 
The  admission  is  true ;  the  conclu- 
sion is  false.  You  admit  it  may 
injure  you,  and  when  it  has  —  no, 
there  would  be  some  sense  in  that;  but  when  you  find  out 
that  it  has  injured  you,  then  you  will  quit  it.  You  won't 
use  such  an  argument  in  reference  to  any  other  matter.  "  I 
will  put  my  hand  into  the  den  of  a  rattlesnake,  and  when  I 

93 


94  "CAPTAIN,  THERE'S  ONE  OF  'EM." 

find  out  that  he  has  stuck  his  fangs  into  me  I  will  draw  it 
out  and  get  it  cured  as  quickly  as  possible."  There  is  no 
common  sense  in  that. 

Young  men,  beware  of  this  thing,  because  it  is  a  snare.  It 
is  fearfully  deceptive.  Every  man  who  drinks  intends  to  be 
a  moderate  drinker.  I  have  said  this  over  and  over  again, 
because  I  believe  it  to  be  important.  Every  man  who  be- 
comes intemperate  does  so  by  a  course  of  argument  from  the 
beginning  all  the  way  down  to  ruin.  Young  men,  you  say, 
"  When  I  find  out  that  it  is  injuring  me,  then  I  will  give  it 
up."  Is  that  sensible  ? 

I  once  heard  of  a  pilot  who  said  he  could  pilot  a  vessel 
into  Boston  Harbor.  "Now,"  said  he  to  the  captain,  "I'll 
stand  'midships,  and  you  can  take  the  helm.  I  know  every 
rock  in  this  channel  —  every  one  of  'em  —  I  know  'em  all, 
and  I  '11  give  you  warning."  By  and  by  the  vessel  struck 
upon  a  rock,  and  the  shock  threw  everybody  down  upon  the 
deck.  The  poor  pilot  got  up,  rubbing  himself,  and  said, 
"  Captain,  there  's  one  of  'em." 

Now  we  say  to  young  men,  "  There  's  one  of  them.  Hard 
up  your  helm  before  you  strike  !  "  That  is  sensible.  If  you 
have  struck,  haul  off  and  repair  damages,  and  then  strike 
again.  Is  that  sensible  ?  In  time  the  poor  old  battered  hulk 
will  not  bear  any  more  damages,  and  men  will  bury  }TOU,  a 
broken  wreck.  That  is  the  end  of  it  in  many  cases.  "  When  I 
find  out  that  it  is  injuring  me,  then  I  will  give  it  up"  Gather 
all  the  drunkards  of  this  country  together,  and  ask  them 
every  one,  "Are  you  drinking  enough  to  injure  you?"  A 
large  proportion  will  declare  that  they  are  not.  Each  one  of 
them  has  become  a  drunkard  in  the  sight  of  God  and  man 
before  he  has  become  one  in  his  own  estimation. 

Intoxicating  drink  is  deceptive  in  its  very  nature.  It  re- 
minds me  of  the  fable  of  the  serpent  in  a  circle  of  fire. 


SOWING  WILD  OATS.  95 

A  man  was  passing  by,  and  the  snake  said  to  him,  "Help 
me  out  of  my  difficulty."  "If  I  do,  you  '11  bite  me."  "Oh, 
no,  I  won't."  "I  'in  afraid  to  trust  you,"  "Help  me  out  of 
the  fire,  or  it  will  consume  me,  and  I  promise  on  my  word  of 
honor  I  won't  bite  you."  The  man  took  the  snake  out  of  the 
fire,  and  threw  it  on  the  ground.  Instantly  the  serpent  said, 
"  Now  I  '11  bite  you."  "  But  did  n't  you  promise  me  you 
wouldn't?"  "Yes,  but  don't  you  know  it's  my  nature  to 
bite,  and  I  cannot  help  it."  So  it  is  with  the  drink.  It  is  its 
nature  to  bite ;  it  is  its  nature  to  deceive. 

Young  men  say  (and  I  have  heard  them  more  than  once) 
that  they  "  must  sow  their  wild  oats."  Remember  this, 
young  gentlemen,  "  Whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he 
also  reap."  If  you  sow  corn,  you  reap  corn.  If  you  sow 
weeds,  you  reap  weeds.  If  you  sow  to  the  flesh,  you  will  of 
the  flesh  reap  corruption.  But  if  you  sow  to  the  spirit,  you 
will  of  the  spirit  reap  life  everlasting.  Ah,  young  men,  look 
at  that  reaping,  and  then  contemplate  the  awful  reaping  of 
men  to-day  who  are  reaping  as  they  have  sown,  in  bitterness 
of  spirit  and  anguish  of  soul.  "When  I  find  out  that  it  is 
injuring  me,  THEN  I  will  give  it  up" 

Surely  that  is  not  common  sense.  Such  is  the  fascination 
thrown  around  a  man  by  the  power  of  this  habit,  that  it 
must  have  essentially  injured  him  before  he  will  acknowledge 
the  hurt  and  consent  to  give  it  up.  Many  a  man  has  been 
struck  down  in  his  prosperity,  has  been  sent  to  prison  for 
crime,  before  he  acknowledged  that  his  evil  habit  was  injur- 
ing him.  I  remember  riding  from  Buffalo  to  Niagara  Falls, 
and  I  said  to  a  gentleman,  "What  river  is  that,  sir?" 
"That,"  he  said,  "is  Niagara  River."  "It  is  a  beautiful 
stream,"  said  I,  "  bright,  smooth,  and  glassy ;  how  far  off  are 
the  rapids  ?  "  "  Only  a  few  miles,"  was  the  reply.  "  Is  it 
possible  that  only  a  few  miles  from  us  we  shall  find  the 


96 


GLIDING  TO  DESTRUCTION. 


water  in  the  turbulence  which  it  must  show  when  near  the 
rapids?"  "You  will  find  it  so,  sir."  And  so  I  found  it, 
and  that  first  sight  of  Niagara  Falls  I  shall  never  forget. 
Now,  launch  your  bark  on  that  river;  the  water  is  smooth, 
beautiful,  and  glassy.  There  is  a  ripple  at  the  bow  of 
your  boat,  and  the  silvery  wake  it  leaves  behind  adds  to 
your  enjoyment.  You  set  out  on  your  pleasure  excursion. 
Down  the  stream  you  glide ;  oars,  sails,  and  helm  in  proper 
trim.  Suddenly  some  one  cries  out  from  the  bank,  "  Young 
men,  ahoy!" 
"What  is  it?" 
"  The  rapids  are 
below  you." 
"Ha,  ha!  we 
have  heard  of 
the  rapids,  but 
we  are  not  such 
fools  as  to  get  into 
When  we  find  we  a 

ing  too  fast,  then  we  snail  \\  x\\ 

up  with  the  helm  and  steer  to  the  shore  ;  we  will  set  the  mast 
in  the  socket,  hoist  the  sail,  and  speed  to  land.  Then  on, 
boys,  don't  be  alarmed,  there  's  no  danger."  "  Young  men, 
ahoy  there  !  "  "  What  is  it  ?  "  "  The  rapids  are  below  you." 
"Ha,  ha?  we  will  laugh  and  quaff;  all  things  delight  us. 
What  care  we  for  the  future  ?  No  man  ever  saw  it.  Suffi- 
cient for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof.  We  will  enjoy  life 
while  we  may;  we  will  catch  pleasure  as  it  flies.  This  is 
enjoyment,  time  enough  to  steer  out  of  danger  when  we  are 
sailing  too  swiftly  with  the  current."  "  Young  men,  ahoy ! ' 
"What  is  it?"  "Beware,  beware!  the  rapids  are  below 
you."  Now  you  feel  them  !  See  the  water  foaming  all 
around !  See  how  fast  you  pass  that  point !  Up  with  the 


BRINK. 


IN  SEARCH  OF   "  SCENTIN'   STUFF."  97 

helm  !  Now  turn!  Pull  hard ;  quick,  quick  !  Pull  for  your 
lives !  Pull  till  the  blood  starts  from  the  nostrils  and  the 
veins  stand  like  whipcord  upon  the  brow.  Set  the  mast 
in  the  socket,  hoist  the  sail !  Ah,  ah,  it  is  too  late ;  faster 
and  faster  you  near  the  awful  cataract,  and  then,  shrieking, 
cursing,  howling,  praying,  over  you  go.  Thousands  launch 
their  barks  in  smooth  water  and  realize  no  danger  till  on  the 
verge  of  ruin,  boasting  all  the  while  to  the  last,  "  When  I 
find  out  that  it  is  injuring  me,  then  I  will  give  it  up."  The 
power  of  this  habit,  I  repeat,  is  fascinating,  is  deceptive,  and 
men  may  go  on  arguing  and  coming  to  conclusions  while  on 
the  way  down  to  destruction. 

People  do  not  act  with  common  sense  in  this  matter  as 
they  do  in  others.  I  read  of  a  Yankee  who  went  into  an 
apothecary's  shop  in  Boston. 

"  Be  you  a  drugger  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  am  an  apothecary,  and  I  sell  drugs." 

"Well,  have  you  got  any  of  this  'ere  scentin'  stuff  that 
gals  put  on  their  handkerchiefs?" 

"  Yes,  I  have." 

"  Well,  my  sister  Sal  gave  me  ninepence,  and  told  me  to 
invest  the  whole  amount  in  jest  sich  truck  if  I  could  git 
anything  to  suit;  and  I  should  like  to  smell  round  if  you 
have  no  objection." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  the  chemist,  "  here  is  some  essence 
of  peppermint." 

"  O,  that's  royal,"  said  the  man. 

"  Here  is  some  essence  of  lemon." 

"  That 's  royaller." 

At  last  the  apothecary  took  some  strong  spirits  of  harts- 
horn. "  This,"  said  he,  "  is  a  very  subtle  essence,  and  if  you 
want  to  get  the  full  virtue  of  it,  the  pure  scent,  you  must 
draw  in  as  hard  as  you  can;  a  simple  sniff  will  do  no  good." 


98 


AN  ASTONISHED  COUNTRYMAN. 


"Hold  on  a  minute,"  said  the  man,  "till  I  git  ready,  and 
when  I  say,  lNoAV,'  you  let  her  rip."  Then  he  shouted, 
"Now,"  and  over  he  went.  What  did  he  do?  Did  he  get 
up  and  smell  again  ?  No,  he  had  too  much  common  sense ; 
as  soon  as  he  got  on  his  feet  he  squared  his  arms  and  began 


THE   RESULT   OF    SMELLING   HOUND. 

to  show  fight,  saying,  "  If  you  make  me  smell  that  'tarnal 
everlastin'  stuff  again,  I  '11  make  you  smell  fire  and  brim- 
stone." There  was  some  common  sense  in  that.  Yet,  in  the 
matter  of  drinking,  men  go  up  to  their  old  enemy  and  he 
knocks  them  over;  up  they  get,  and  over  they  go  again; 
and  so  it  continues  until  they  have  hardly  strength  enough 
to  get  down  on  their  hands  and  knees  to  kiss  the  foot  of 


A  TERRIBLE  STORY.  99 

their  foe,  who  with  the  next  spurn  sends  the  poor  shriek- 
ing spirit  into  eternity,  infatuated  by  the  influence  of  drink. 
Yet  men  boast  that  they  will  not  "sign  away  their  privi- 
leges." 

Drunkenness  deludes  its  victims  from  the  first  glass  down 
to  false  conclusions.  "  I  don't  intend  to  injure  myself "  is 
one.  Dr.  Condict  told  me  the  story  of  a  young  man  who 
was  a  classmate  of  Daniel  Webster,  whose  prospects  at  the 
time  of  his  marriage  to  a  gifted  and  beautiful  woman  could 
hardly  have  been  exceeded  in  promise.  He  then  drank  in 
moderation ;  but  the  desire  for  stimulants  grew  upon  him, 
and  he  began  to  drink  to  excess.  His  friends  saw  this,  but 
did  n't  like  to  say  anything  to  him  about  it  lest  they  should 
"  hurt  his  feelings."  How  foolish !  If  we  saw  a  man  walk- 
ing on  the  edge  of  a  precipice,  should  we  abstain  from  cau- 
tioning him, because  we  did  not  want  to  "hurt  his  feelings?" 
The  young  man  grew  worse  and  worse,  and  his  wife  became 
exceedingly  affected  in  her  health,  and  even  in  her  mind;  but 
he  saw  nothing. 

At  length  Mr.  Webster  came  to  the  city,  and  friends  told 
him  of  the  condition  of  his  old  classmate.  "He  is  ruining 
himself  and  his  law  practice ;  the  other  day  when  an  import- 
ant case  was  to  be  heard  he  was  unfit  to  go  into  court." 
"  But,"  said  Webster,  "  has  nothing  been  done  ?  Has  no  one 
spoken  to  him  about  it  ?  "  They  told  him  no,  they  wished  to 
spare  his  feelings.  "  Feelings,  sir  ?  I  must  go  and  see  him." 
He  went  into  the  office,  and  when  the  young  man  rose  to 
greet  him,  Webster  gave  him  a  look  such  as  he  only  could 

give,  and  said,  "  Mr. ,  I  tell  you  plainly,  I  see  you  are 

becoming  a  drunkard.  Stop ;  now  sit  down  quietly,  and 
let  me  tell  you  the  whole  truth."  Then  he  told  him  of  his 
declining  practice,  and  the  failing  state  of  his  wife's  health ; 
and  the  result  was  that  the  young  man  said,  "  Webster,  you 

7 


100 


DRIVEN  TO  INSANITY. 


have  opened  my  eyes,  I  will  drink  no  more."  After  that  he 
did  not  drink  intoxicating  drinks  for  months.  He  took 
his  wife  to  watering-place  after  watering-place,  and  sur- 
rounded her  with  every  luxury  his  increasing  practice  enabled 
him  to  afford ;  but  she  did  not  seem  to  improve.  One 
evening,  as  she  was  sitting  with  some  ladies  in  Mrs.  Condict's 
parlor,  they  noticed  that  her  manner  was  strange.  Presently 
the  door  opened,  and  her  husband  entered,  with  an  eager 
smile  upon  his  face,  as  if  to  announce  some  new  provision  for 

her  comfort.  The 
wife  rose  to  meet 
him  with  the  silly 
laugh  of  an  idiot. 
"  Oh,  my  God !  "  he 
exclaimed,  "I  could 
bear  to  see  my  wife 
a  maniac  ;  but  an 
idiot)  an  idiot !  — 
never,"  and  he  went 
WEBSTER  PLEADING  WITH  HIS  CLASSMATE,  away  and  drank  him- 

self  to  death.  Mrs.  Condict  told  me,  some  time  after  his 
death,  that  on  a  subsequent  visit  to  that  afflicted  household 
she  found  the  wife  sitting  on  the  floor,  playing  with  the  chil- 
dren, quarrelling  and  fighting  with  them  for  their  toys,  a 
complete  and  hopeless  idiot. 

You  say,  young  man,  you  have  no  intention  of  doing 
yourself  an  injury.  Let  me  tell  you  that  the  subtle  influ- 
ences of  drink  upon  you  are  injuring  you  more  and  more 
every  day.  A  man  is  being  damaged  a  long  time  before  he 
knows  it.  Intoxicating  liquor  is  fearfully  deceptive  in  its 
nature. 

To  return  for  a  minute  to  the  argument, "  I  can  let  it  alone 
when  I  please."  Suppose  I  lie  upon  the  railway  track  ;  some 


A  ROAD  STREWN  WITH  SPECTEE3. 


-JtOi 


one  cries  out  to  me,  "Get  up,  get  up,  the  train  is-eo'mxng'.'? 
"  You  mind  your  own  business ;  I  'm  not  fool  enough  to  be 
run  over,  am  I?  I  can  get  up  when  I've  a  mind  to,  and  I 
can  lie  here  as  long  as  I  please,  can't  I  ? "  I  boast  of  a 
power  I  positively  possess,  but  I  have  no  will  to  exercise  the 
power,  and  the  train  comes  thundering  on  and  cuts  me  in 
two.  What  am  I  ?  I  am  a  self-murderer.  I  had  the  power ; 
I  had  the  warning ;  I  refused  to  exercise  this  power ;  and, 
when  swift  destruction  came, 


the  power  was  taken  from  me. 
Every  man  that 
dies  a  drunkard, 

^^  r  ~ 

dies  a  suicide. 
He  had  the  pow- 
er to  escape,  and 
he  had  the  warn- 
ing ;  there  is  not 
a  man  who  dares 
to  say,  "  I  have 
had  no  warn- 
ing." Stop  one 
moment;  stop 
and  listen ;  you 
can  hear  the  "GET  UP,  GET  UP,  THE  TRAIN  is  COMING." 
shrieks  that  come  up  from  the  vortex,  —  shrieks,  piercing 
shrieks  of  despair  from  those  who  are  sinking  to  rise  no 
more.  Your  whole  way  is  lined  with  spectres  that  are  point- 
ing to  the  future  of  those  who  heedlessly  argue  their  way 
down  the  fatal  sliding  scale.  Therefore  every  man  who  dies 
a  drunkard,  dies  a  suicide. 

I  heard  a  gentleman  dispute  that  once.  He  said,  "  A  man 
that  is  a  suicide  is  one  that  destroys  his  life  at  once."  I  said 
to  him,  "  Don't  you  consider  a  man  a  suicide  if  he  shortens 


10*2  A  PAINFUL  SCENE. 


t<>if  minutes?  "  "No,"  said  he  ;  "I  don't."  At  that 
time  there  was  a  man  under  sentence  of  death.  "  Now,"  said 
I,  "  suppose,  ten  minutes  before  that  man  is  to  be  hung,  he 
cuts  his  throat,  what  is  he  ?  "  "  He  is  a  suicide,  certainly." 
"But  he  has  only  shortened  his  life  ten  minutes."  I  believe 
that  every  man  who  shortens  his  existence  by  the  pursuit  of 
gratification  that  is  injurious  to  him  is  in  a  degree  a  destroyer 
of  his  own  life.  "I  can,  but  I  won't."  You  remember 
Samson  was  bound  three  times,  and  each  time  Delilah  said  to 
him,  "The  Philistines  be  upon  thee,  Samson,"  and  three  times 
he  burst  the  thongs  that  bound  him,  and  stood  up  again  free. 
By-and-by  he  told  her  all  his  heart,  and  laid  his  head  on  her 
lap,  and  she  called  a  man  of  her  people,  who  sheared  his 
locks.  Then  she  said  to  him,  "  The  Philistines  be  upon  thee, 
Samson."  What  did  he  say  ?  "I  will  go  out  and  shake  my- 
self, as  at  other  times."  He  went  out,  but  the  power  was 
gone,  and  in  his  helplessness  they  put  out  his  eyes. 

God  pity  any  man  when  he  begins  to  feel  the  fetters  of  a 
habit  gall  him,  who,  when  he  goes  out  to  burst  his  chains, 
finds  the  welded  iron  bands  entering  into  his  marrow,  until 
he  lifts  his  shackled  hands  to  heaven  and  cries,  "  Who  shall 
deliver  me  from  the  slavery  of  drunkenness  ?  "  "I  can,  but  I 
won't."  The  most  painful  scene  I  ever  witnessed  in  my  life 
was  by  the  bedside  of  a  man  who  said,  "  I  would,  but  I  can't." 
The  difference  between  you  and  the  poor  sot  is  :  you  can,  but 
you  won't  ;  he  would  with  all  his  heart,  but  he  fears  that  he 
can't.  You  see  a  man  standing  before  the  bar  or  before  the 
counter.  His  cry  is,  "  Give  me  drink  ;  I  must  have  it.  I 
will  give  you  my  own  hard  earnings,  but  give  me  drink  ! 
I  will  give  you  more  than  that.  I  married  a  wife  ;  I  took  her 
from  her  girlhood's  home  ;  I  promised  to  love  her  and  cherish 
her,  and  protect  her,  and  I  have  driven  her  out  to  work  for 
me.  Ah,  ah  !  I  have  stolen  her  wages,  and  I  have  brought 


A  COLD  DAY  FOR  PUSS. 


103 


them  to  you ;  I  will  give  them  to  you  if  you  will  give  me 
drink.  More  yet :  I  will  give  you  the  price  of  bread  that  I 
snatched  from  the  parched  lips  of  my  famished  child.  More 
yet :  I  have  some  money  in  my  hand ;  I  drove  out  my  little 
child  to  lie  and  to  cheat  in  the  street,  and  I  will  give  you 
that  if  you  will  give  me  drink.  Yes,  I  have  sold  my  child, 
body  and  soul,  and  I  will  give  you  the  payment.  More  yet : 
I  will  give  you  my  health ;  I  will  give  you  my  humanity. 

More  yet:  I  will  give  you  my 
hopes  of  heaven ;  I  will  give  you 
body  and  soul,  but  give  me  drink!  " 
And  there  are  men  to-day  barter- 
ing their  birthright  for  a  dram,  and 
selling  their  heritage  for  drink. 

"  When  I  find  out  it  is  injuring 
me,  then  I  will  give  it  up."  But 
when  will  a  man  find  out  it  is  injur- 
ing him  ?  And  when  a  man  finds 
that  out,  that  is  the  very  time  when 
he  will  not  give  it  up.  A  man  be- 
comes an  intemperate  man,  and  is  . 
deceived  by  supposing  that  no  one 
knows  anything  about  it.  He  has 
been  indulging,  and  thinks  no  one  knows  it !  Why,  the  very 
children  in  the  street  know  it.  I  remember  hearing  what  a 
boy  once  said  to  his  mother.  His  mother  saw  him  thrashing 
the  cat  severely,  when  she  said,  "  What  is  the  matter  with 
the  cat?"  "  Three  days  ago,"  the  boy  said,  "I  got  that  cat 
under  my  arm,  and  I  put  my  pen  to  her  paw,  and  wrote 
'Puss'  on  the  pledge,  and  now  she  has  been  breaking  her 
pledge."  "How  do  you  know?"  " I  saw  her  come  out  of 
old  Ramsey's  rum-shop,  licking  her  chops."  Now,  do  you 
suppose  you  can  go  into  the  saloon,  or  into  any  one  of 


THE    CAT'S   PLEDGE. 


104 


REJECTED   AT   THE   ALTAR. 


those  places  of  resort,  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  come  out  wiping  your  lips,  and  no  one  know  anything 
about  it  ?  You  may  chew  peppermint  till  you  are  sick,  and 
pastils,  and  all  sorts  of  things  to  take  away  the  smell  of  the 


NO!   YOU   HAVE   DECEIVED    ME/ 


drink  from  your  breath;  but  others  know  what  you  have 
been  at.  That  odor  of  alcohol  is  wonderfully  pungent.  I 
heard  (and  I  say  this  for  the  benefit  of  the  ladies)  of  a 
young  lady  who  was  engaged  to  be  married.  Before  she  gave 
her  consent,  she  made  the  young  gentleman  promise  that  he 
would  drink  no  more  intoxicating  liquor.  They  stood  up 
before  the  minister  to  be  married.  He  turned  his  face  to  her 


ADAM'S   WHISKEY   JUG. 


105 


to  give  her  his  right  hand,  and  she  detected  the  smell  of 
liquor  in  his  breath.  The  minister  said,  "  Wilt  thou  have 
this  man  to  be  thy  wedded  husband  ?  "  Looking  him  right 
in  the  face,  she  said,  "  No  !  "  "  Why,  you  came  here  for  that 
purpose."  "  I  did."  Then  she  said  to  the  young  man,  "  You 
have  deceived  me  ;  you  have  told  me  a  lie.  You  said  you 
would  not  drink,  and  I  smell  it  in  your  breath ;  and  the  pros- 
pects for  me,  if  I  become  your  wife,  are  so  dreadful,  that  my 
own  safety  and  future  happiness 
demand  that  I  shall  say  no." 

You  think  no  one  knows  it.  It 
reminds  me  of  a  story  of  a  time 
when  we  used  to  call  ministers, 
"  dominies  ; "  and  in  those  days 
dominies  liked  whiskey.  Perhaps 
they  do  not  now,  but  they  did 
then.  There  was  one  woman  who  /.jj 
had  a  drunken  husband,  and  his 
name  was  Adam.  One  day  the 
dominie  was  to  call,  and  the  wife 
said,  "Now,  Adam,  the  whiskey- 
jug  is  empty,  and  you  must  go 
down  to  the  store  and  get  it  filled ;  "NOW>  ADAM- 

but  do  not  drink  any ;  don't  take  the  cork  out  and  get  to 
smelling  it,  for  I  know  what  the  result  will  be  ;  and  if  you 
are  a  good  man  and  a  good,  dear  husband,  Adam,  and 
come  back  perfectly  straight,  when  the  dominie  is  gone 
I  will  give  you  a  little  whiskey."  So  off  he  went,  but  he 
was  gone  a  long  time.  When  he  came  back  he  was  in  a 
terrible  state.  His  hat  was  smashed  all  to  pieces,  his  trous- 
ers' knees  broken  across,  his  coat  ripped,  and  he  himself 
covered  with  mud,  and  in  a  beastly  state.  "  Well,  you  have 
been  and  gone  and  done  it ;  you  have,  have  n't  you  ?  Yon 


106 


ADAM'S   FALL. 


are  a  nice  husband  to  break  a  woman's  heart,  you  poor, 
miserable,  drunken  coot ;  can't  you  come  home  sober  ?  Here 
comes  the  dominie.  I  would  not  for  the  world  have  him 
know  that  my  husband  got  drunk;  I  would  not  have  him 
find  you  in  this  state  for  the  best  farm  in  the  county.  Get 
into  this  closet,  and  draw  yourself  right  up  so  that  I  can  shut 
the  door,  and  don't  you  make  the  least  bit  of  noise ;  if  you 
do,  I  will  be  the  death  of  you  when 
you  come  out ;  and  if  you  are  only  per- 
fectly still  till  the  dominie  goes,  per- 
haps I  will  give  you  a  little  more  whis- 
key." So  she  crammed  Adam  into  the 
closet  just  as  the  dominie  came  in  at 
the  door. 

"  Good  afternoon,  madam." 
"  Good  afternoon,  dominie." 
"Well,"    he   said,  "I  have   come  to 
talk  about  religious  subjects.     You  know 
how  we  are  all  suffering  through  Adam's 
fall?" 

"  Why,  how  did  you  find  that  out  ?  " 
"My   dear  sister,"  said   the  dominie, 
"  I  don't  understand   you.     You  know 
ADAM'S  BETUEN.       tne    whole   world   is   suffering    terribly 
from  the  effects  of  Adam's  fall." 

"  Oh,  no ;  it  is  not  so  bad  as  that,  and  I  have  seen  him 
far  worse." 

"Really,  my  dear  sister,  I  don't  understand  you;  I  tell 
you  that  for  all  generations  to  come  the  world  will  groan 
through  the  effects  of  Adam's  fall." 

"  Now,"  says  she,  "  dominie,  you  need  not  tell  me  another 
word.  I  know  he  has  torn  his  trousers,  and  I  know  he  has 
split  his  coat,  and  I  know  he  has  smashed  a  new  hat  all  to 


STARTING  ON  THE  DOWNWARD  PATH. 


107 


pieces,  and  I  know  lie  is  all  covered  with  mud.  Adam,  you 
can  come  out  now ;  the  dominie  has  found  it  all  out.  He 
knows  it ! "  Yes ;  everybody  knows  it ;  and  suppose  they 
did  not,  does  it  depend  on  their  knowledge  whether  you  are 
ruined  or  not? 

Now  let  me  give  you  another  fact.  People  say  I  have  no 
argument;  that  I  do  not  use  logic.  Well,  I  draw  my  argu- 
ments from  FACTS,  and  illustrate  my  arguments  by  FACTS. 
I  can  speak  from  a  personal  knowledge  of 
the  facts  in  the  following  incident ;  for  I 
know  one  of 
the  parties : 
A  young  man 
went  through 
college  with 
the  highest 
honor ;  his 
record  and 
character 
were  clean 
and  pure. 
About  the 
time  he  grad- 
uated he  met  with  a  great  misfortune  in  having  a  legacy 
left  him  of  forty  thousand  dollars.  "  Now,"  he  said,  "before 
I  buckle  down  to  life's  work,  I  will  see  the  world."  And  he 
did  so.  He  was  of  a  nervous,  susceptible  temperament ;  he 
boarded  in  one  of  the  best  hotels,  and  commenced  drinking. 
I  will  not  follow  his  course.  After  he  had  been  there  some 
time,  the  landlord  said  to  him,  "  Look  here,  you  and  I  know 
each  other ;  we  are  men  of  the  world,  and  it  is  always  busi- 
ness before  friendship.  Now,  you  know  the  kind  of  house 
I  mean  to  keep.  I  have  lady  boarders  with  me,  and  they 


ADAM'S  EXIT  FROM  THE  CLOSET. 


108  LOWER  AND  LOWER. 

may  be  fastidious ;  but  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
They  complain  of  your  coming  in  late  at  night  and  mak- 
ing a  noise.  That  will  not  do  ;  I  think  you  had  better 
find  some  other  quarters.  We  are  friends  just  the  same  as 
ever,  but  I  think  it  would  be  better  for  us  both  if  you  shift 
your  quarters."  And  he  did.  Now,  young  men,  where  did 
he  go  ?  Did  he  go  to  a  more  respectable  house?  No;  he 
went  to  a  less  respectable  house.  Every  step  a  man  takes  in 
this  course  is  down,  never  up  ;  never,  never !  He  went  where 
he  could  make  a  little  more  noise  without  troubling  any- 
one. When  he  was  too  noisy  for  that  house,  they  ordered 
him  away. 

He  went  to  a  lower  and  a  lower  and  a  lower  place,  every 
step  still  lower.  Eight  years  passed  away.  He  was  seated 
in  a  grog-shop,  —  well,  I  can  hardly  describe  it,  —  it  was  a 
place  where  they  kept  bunks  for  men  to  sleep  off  the  drink, 
and  where  a  certain  kind  of  food  called  "all-sorts  soup" 
was  provided  for  them.  It  was  a  most  wretched  place.  He 
sat  on  a  dilapidated  chair,  destitute  of  linen,  with  a  wretched 
coat  buttoned  close  up  to  his  neck ;  a  greasy  cap  lay  on  his 
forehead  ;  his  hair,  brown  and  wavy,  was  yet  rich  and  glossy; 
one  foot  was  naked,  the  other  was  thrust  into  an  old  India- 
rubber  shoe.  He  sat  there  with  his  feet  stretched  out,  his 
arms  folded,  asleep  and  snoring.  Several  of  the  wretched 
victims  of  this  vice  were  seated  around  the  room.  The 
landlord  came  in. 

"  Look  here !  wake  up  here  !  What  are  you  doing  here  ? 
Wake  up ! " 

"  What  are  you  talking  to  me  in  this  way  for  ?  " 

"I  will  let  you  know  what  I  talk  in  this  way  for;  get  out 
of  my  house  !  " 

"What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  I  won't  have  you  hanging  round  here  any  longer ;  you 
have  become  a  complete  nuisance;  get  out  with  you!" 


"TOM,  OLD  FELLOW,  IS  THIS  YOU?"  109 

"  What  do  you  talk  to  me  in  this  way  for  ?  " 

"  I  will  let  you  know  what  I  mean  if  you  don't  get  out." 

"  Don't  lay  your  hand  on  me.  I  tell  you,  sir,  look  out 
before  you  arouse  the  devil  in  me.  Don't  touch  me.  What 
do  you  talk  to  me  in  this  way  for?  When  I  first  came 
to  your  house  you  treated  me  civilly;  you  took  my  money 
for  liquor  and  for  treating  others ;  you  gave  me  the  best 
bunk  in  your  house,  and  you  have  often  put  me  to  bed 
when  I  was  drunk.  What  do  you  talk  to  me  in  this  way  for, 
now?" 

"What  do  I  talk  to  you  in  this  way  for  ?  Because  you  are 
not  the  same  man  you  were  when  you  first  came  here." 

"I  am  not  the  same  man,  am  I?  That  is  true.  Don't  lay 
your  hand  on  me,  I  say.  He  says  I  am  not  the  same  man 
I  was  when  I  first  came  to  his  house.  Now,  I  will  go  ;  you 
need  not  put  me  out ;  I  will  go.  He  says  I  am  not  the  same 
man  I  was ;  I  don't  look  like  it,  and  I  don't  feel  like  it. 
Look  at  me,  and  see  what  you  and  such  as  you  have  made 
me.  I  remember  when  I  delivered  the  salutatory  to  my 
class,  and  now  I  am  a  nuisance.  Now  I  will  go.  Good-by." 

He  staggered  forth  and  fell  in  the  gutter.  They  picked 
him  up  and  brought  him  back  to  the  house.  The  man  would 
not  allow  him  to  be  brought  in,  so  they  put  him  in  a  cellar 
on  a  heap  of  straw.  They  found  out  who  he  was,  and  sent 
for  an  old  college  classmate  who  was  practising  as  a  lawyer 
in  that  city.  He  came  to  him  and  said :  — 

"Why,  Tom,  old  fellow,  is  this  you?" 

"  Yes,  all  there  is  left  of  me." 

"  This  is  bad  business,  Tom." 

"  Yes,  as  bad  as  it  could  be." 

"  Don't  say  that,  old  fellow ;  I  have  come  to  get  you  up 
and  take  care  of  you.  I  am  not  going  to  leave  you  till  I  get 
you  on  your  feet  again." 


110  THE  DEATH  OF  TOM. 

"  No,  it  is  too  late  ;  I  shall  never  stand  on  my  feet  again ; 
I  shall  die  where  I  lie.  He  says  I  am  not  the  same  man  I 
was,  and  I  will  die  here  ;  I  want  to  die  here ;  I  have  no 
hope." 

"Why,  Tom,  don't  talk  like  that,  old  fellow.  Don't  you 
remember  the  good  old  times  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  remember  them." 

"  Well,  now,  just  cheer  up." 

"I  cannot  cheer  up.     Jem,  Jem,  will  you  kiss  me  ?  " 

The  friend  turned  and  pressed  his  lips  to  the  bloated  face 
of  the  dying  man,  who  then  said,  "  It  is  getting,  dark." 

"  But,  Tom,  Tom,  dear  fellow,  remember  Him  who  said, 
4  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy-laden.' ' 

"  Too  late,  Jem.  Don't  leave  me ;  don't  leave  me  !  Oh, 
it  is  getting  dark  ;  it  is  getting  dark."  Straightening  himself 
up,  while  convulsions  shook  his  frame,  he  said,  "  This  is  the 
last  act  of  the  play  that  is  played  out,"  and  he  fell  back 
dead.  Ah !  my  friends,  it  is  an  awful  risk  to  take  a  wrong 
direction. 

They  tell  us  that  eight  miles  from  the  earth  nothing  can 
live.  There  is  death  to  all  animal  life  only  eight  miles  above 
us.  Travel  eight  miles  in  this  direction  or  that,  you  come  to 
home,  and  life,  and  peace,  and  love,  and  happiness.  In  that 
direction,  death !  It  does  not  matter  what  the  distance  is, 
but  it  is  the  direction  you  take  that  will  make  or  mar  you. 
Men  say  that,  when  they  find  drink  is  injuring  them,  then 
they  will  give  it  up.  Young  men,  do  you  know  what  the 
appetite  for  drink  is  ?  God  forbid  you  ever  should  know  by 
your  own  experience. 


CHAPTER   III. 


FRIEND   OR   FOE?  —  THE   DIVIDING    LINE  —  WHERE  DO  YOU 
STAND?  —  SLAVES   OF  FASHION  —  LUDICROUS   INCIDENTS. 

The  Word  "But" — Popping  the  Question  —  Anecdote  of  Dr.  Lawson —  A 
Slim  Congregation  —  A  Sermon  That  Was  "Too  Personal"  —  How 
Mrs.  Remington  Stood  It  —  A  Duel  in  the  Dark  —  Retreating  Up  the 
Chimney  —  A  Surprise  to  Both  Parties  —  Giving  a  Reason  —  Both  Sides  of 
the  Question  —  " Three  Cheers  for  Elder  Gray"  — The  Bank  Cashier's 
Story  —  The  Reason  Why  —  Comical  Excuses  for  Drinking  —  Grounds 
for  Suspicion  —  Letting  Down  the  Bars  — An  Ugly  Threat  —  Catching 
the  Measles  —  Drinking  in  Society  —  Sipping  in  "  Style  "—  Fashionable 
Dissipation  —  Silly  Customs  —  A  Ludicrous  Picture  —  The  Dutchman  and 
His  Lost  "Poy"— Story  of  the  Tempted  Negro  — A  Coveted  Pair  of 
Boots  —  "  The  Devil  Says  Take  'Em  "  —  Queer  Ideas  of  Faith  —  "  Good- 
ness Gracious  !  Has  It  Come  to  That  ?  "  —  Funny  Incidents  —  Forward  — 
God  Speed  the  Right. 

F  a  man  has  anything  to  say 
against  the  temperance 
movement,  let  him  come 
boldly  forward  and  state  it. 
We  have  a  right  to  demand 
of  opposers  their  reasons  for 
opposition.  I  cannot  under- 
stand the  position  of  that 
man  who  will  say  to  us,  as  many 
men  do  say,  "  Yours  is  a  good  cause, 
you  are  doing  a  great  deal  of  good, 
but,  but—."  That  word  "but" 
stands  in  the  way  of  a  great  many  good  enterprises.  "  But " 
blocks  more  good  intentions  towards  the  total  abstinence 
movement  than  any  other  word.  "  It  is  a  good  cause ; 
drunkenness  is  an  evil,  and  I  wish  you  well,  but  — ."  Now, 

113 


114  THAT  LITTLE  WORD   "BUT." 

what  is  the  use  of  all  this?  Does  it  help  us  to  be  told  that 
our  cause  is  a  good  one,  and  that  they  wish  us  well, 
"but — ?"  Young  gentleman,  what  would  you  think  if, 
when  you  had  paid  your  addresses  to  a  young  lady,  had 
screwed  your  courage  up  to  the  point  of  popping  the  impor- 
tant question,  and  as  you  stood  there  in  eager  expectation  to 
hear  the  affirmative  reply,  she  were  to  say :  "  Well,  my 
opinion  of  you  is  a  very  high  one ;  I  have  regarded  you  with 
a  great  deal  of  interest ;  and  my  father  thinks  that  your  char- 
acter is  irreproachable,  that  your  temper  is  good,  and  your 
position  in  society  is  all  that  I  could  expect.  I  wish  to 
return  to  you  my  grateful  acknowledgments  for  having 
selected  me  as  the  object  of  your  affection,  and  I  really 
feel  as  if  I  could  return  the  love  you  have  confessed  for 
me,  but  — ."  Now,  all  these  expressions  of  esteem,  admi- 
ration and  respect,  only  make  the  sting  felt  more  deeply.  I 
positively  would  rather  hear  a  man  say,  "  I  don't  believe  in 
your  principles,  and  I  am  ready  to  give  reasons  for  it,"  than  to 
hear  him  say,  "  It  is  a  good  cause,  you  are  doing  a  great  deal 
of  good,"  and  so  on.  We  do  not  desire  to  show  that  you 
are  wrong,  but  that  we  are  right. 

I»am  reminded  of  a  story  told  of  the  late  Dr.  Lawson,  of 
Selkirk.  Walking  to  Fala  on  one  occasion  to  assist  at  the 
sacrament,  he  was  overtaken  by  a  snowstorm,  and  sought 
shelter  in  a  house  by  the  roadside.  The  good  wife  was  a  bust- 
ling, clever,  kind-hearted  woman,  and,  as  the  storm  did  not 
abate  with  the  close  of  day,  she  said  to  the  Doctor,  supposing 
from  his  simple  appearance  that  he  was  some  plain  country- 
man, "  Ye  seem  tae  be  clean,  and,  gin  ye  like,  ye  can  bide  tae 
the  morninV  Supper  was  prepared,  and  before  retiring  to 
rest  the  family  were  gathered  for  worship.  If  the  husband 
was  the  "  head  "  of  the  house,  the  wife  at  least  seemed  to  be 
the  "neck"  of  it,  for  she  read  the  chapter  and  led  the  devo- 


A  SLIM  CONGREGATION. 


115 


tional  part  of  the  service.  In  the  morning  the  Doctor  took 
his  departure  ;  and  what  was  the  good  woman's  surprise,  on 
attending  church  that  day,  to  see  the  stranger  she  had  lodged 
ascend  the  pulpit  and  "  address  the  table  !  "  On  the  Tues- 
day following,  as  the  Doctor  made  his  way  home,  he  called 
at  the  house  that  had  sheltered  him,  and,  addressing  the 
mistress,  said,  "I  could  not  pass  the  door  without  again 
thankin'  you  for  your  kind- 
ness to  a  stranger;  but,  oh, 
woman,  I  lik'd  your  pray- 
ers far  better  than  your 
brose."  * 

We  ask  you  to  define 
your  position.  If  you  do 
not,  it  will  be  defined  for 
you  in  a  way  you  do  not 
expect.  One  rainy  day  a 
man  went  into  church  and 
found  no  one  there  but  the 
minister.  "  Well,"  said  the 
minister,  "what  am  I  to 
do?"  "Why,  preach,  to 
be  sure !  I  pay  the  minister-tax."  "You  want  me  to  preach 
a  sermon,  do  you  ?  "  "  Of  course,  I  came  on  purpose  to  hear 
one."  "  Then  take  a  seat ;  there 's  plenty  of  room."  He 
preached  a  pithy,  close,  searching  sermon,  and  hit  his  auditor 
hard.  On  going  home,  he  was  asked  how  he  liked  the 
sermon.  "  Oh,  I  liked  it  well  enough,  but  it  was  too  personal." 
People  sometimes  say,  "Were  you  at  the  meeting  last  night?" 
"Yes."  "Did  you  hear  Mr.  So-and-So?"  "Yes."  "Did 
you  notice  that  gentleman  who  sat  on  the  platform,  how 
awfully  he  got  it  ?  "  I  was  once  told  of  a  certain  man  who 


TOO  PEKSONAL. 


*  A  Scotch  dish,  —a  preparation  of  oatmeal 


116  A  DUEL  IN   THE   DARK. 

had  gained  the  reputation  of  not  being  very  particular  in 
telling  the  truth ;  in  fact,  he  was  a  notorious  liar.  The  min- 
ister of  the  place  was  requested  to  preach  a  sermon  against 
the  sin  of  lying.  After  the  sermon  —  a  pretty  strong  one 
—  had  been  delivered,  this  man  was  asked  how  he  liked  it. 
"Like  it?  Why,  it  was  first-rate,  admirable,  just  the  thing 


A  SURPRISE   TO   BOTH  DUELLISTS. 

that's  wanted.  I  think  we  ought  to  raise  our  minister's 
salary.  I  really  did  enjoy  it,  but  I  could  n't  help  wondering 
how  Mrs.  Remington  stood  it." 

Two  men  were  fighting  a  duel  in  a  very  dark  room.  One 
of  them,  who  was  a  very  brave  man  and  did  not  want  to 
shoot,  groped  all  round  the  room,  seeking  for  some  con- 
venient place  to  fire  his  pistol  without  the  risk  of  hurting 
his  adversary.  At  last  he  felt  himself  near  the  chimney, 
which  he  thought  was  just  the  place  for  his  purpose,  so 
he  fired  up  the  chimney,  and  down  tumbled  the  other  man. 


BOTH  SIDES   OF  THE   QUESTION. 

A  great  many  people  think  themselves  safe  up  the  chimney. 
Our  teetotal  gun  is  one  which  will  shoot  round  the  corner. 
It  so  happens  that  when  anything  is  said,  fitted  to  hit,  every 
one  lays  it  all  on  somebody  else.  If  what  we  say  in  defence 
of  our  cause  is  the  truth,  and  any  man  is  hurt  by  it,  the 
Lord  help  him  to  get  his  hurt  healed. 

There  are  only  two  sides  to  this  question,  and  no  man  can 
be  on  both  sides  at  the  same  time.  Many  say  it  is  a  good 
cause,  and  doing  much  good,  and  yet  throw  cold  water  on 
our  efforts.  We  like  cold  water  well  enough,  but  do  not  like 
it  dashed  about  us  in  this  indiscriminate  manner.  I  wish 
such  individuals  would  define  their  position.  A  gentleman 
in  Massachusetts,  conversing  with  me  at  one  time  on  differ- 
ent topics,  at  length  spoke  of  temperance.  "I  wish  you  all 
success,"  said  he ;  "I  believe  the  cause  to  be  a  good  one,  and 
likely  to  confer  great  and  important  benefits  on  society." 
"  Have  you  signed  the  pledge  ?  "  said  I.  "  Hem  —  no  —  no." 
Said  I,  "Why  not?"  Had  he  said,  "Because  I  believe  it  to 
be  wrong,"  I  would  have  been  satisfied;  but  he  gave  no 
reason.  A  man  said  to  me  at  another  place,  "  I  shan't  sign 
your  pledge."  "Why?"  "  Because  I  love  liquor."  "You 
are  an  honest  man,  give  me  your  hand.  I  like  you  ;  you  have 
given  me  a  reason  which  is  an  honest  one,  and  I  believe  you." 
If  a  man  says,  "  I  love  liquor  and  mean  to  drink,"  that  is  a 
satisfactory  reason ;  it  is  enough,  you  do  not  belong  to  us. 

We  believe  that  total  abstinence  from  all  that  can  intoxi- 
cate is  lawful,  is  expedient ;  and  that  it  is  good  "  neither  to 
eat  flesh,  nor  drink  wine,  nor  anything  whereby  thy  brother 
stumbleth,  or  is  offended,  or  is  made  weak."  We  believe  it 
is  our  duty  to  adopt  the  principle  on  these  grounds,  and  there 
remains  only  the  opposite.  Will  you  adopt  it,  then?  One 
gentleman  says,  "I  shan't,  because  I  sell  liquor,  and  mean 
to  do  it."  Well,  sir,  go  over  there  and  take  your  place. 
3 


118  THE  DIVIDING  LINE. 

Another  says,  "  I  shan't  sign  the  pledge."  You  shan't,  why 
not?  "Oh,  I  dislike  drunkenness  as  much  as  you  do,  and 
am  much  opposed  to  it ;  but  the  nature  of  my  business  leads 
me  into  society,  and  I  occasionally  take  a  social  glass."  Very 
well,  sir,  that  is  enough;  go  over  there.  A  lady  says,  "I 
can't."  Why  not  ?  "  Oh,  I  hate  drunkenness ;  I  despise  it ; 
still  I  can't  come  to  the  conclusion  to  abolish  wine  entirely. 
You  know  there  are  wedding  parties  and  occasions  — ."  That 
is  enough,  go  over  there.  Now,  where  are  you  going  to 
place  a  poor,  wretched,  miserable  drunkard?  With  a  face 
woefully  debauched,  he  comes  reeling  up.  "  I  shan't." 
Why  not?  "Down  with  all  your  total  abstinence,  I  say." 
That  is  enough,  only  go  over  there  with  the  others.  We 
stand  on  the  ground  of  total  abstinence,  and  you  stand 
against  us.  That  is  the  line  of  division. 

Now,  if  we  are  right,  if  we  convince  you  that  we  are,  will 
you  help  us  ?  If,  on  the  contrary,  you  can  show  us  that  we 
are  all  wrong,  and  that  we  have  no  right  to  pray  and  labor 
for  the  advancement  of  the  cause,  I,  for  one,  will  tear  my 
pledge  in  pieces,  and  join  with  you.  But  while  there  are 
those  who  bitterly  oppose  us,  I  do  not  believe  there  is  one 
reputable  person  in  all  this  land  who  would  be  so  inhuman 
as  to  willingly  lift  a  finger,  if,  by  that  simple  act,  he  could 
bring  the  temperance  cause  to  naught ;  nor  one  who  would 
willingly  lift  a  finger,  if,  by  so  doing,  he  could  send  the  drunk- 
ards redeemed  by  this  movement  back  to  a  life  of  wretched- 
ness and  woe,  undoing  at  once  all  the  good  our  cause  has  con- 
ferred upon  them.  Why  ?  Because  you  know  in  your  hearts 
that  abstinence  has  clone  a  good  work,  and  will  yet  do  more. 
And  we  look  forward  with  hearts  full  of  gratitude  to  God, 
believing  that  brighter  days  are  dawning.  The  drinking 
customs  of  society  will  yet  receive  their  death-blow,  and 
they  will  be  buried  with  no  hope  of  resurrection. 


"HOORAY   FOR  ELDER  GRAY!" 

If  men  refuse  to  define  their  position,  it  will  be  defined 
for  them,  and  sometimes  in  a  way  they  will  not  relish.    Many 
a  man  has  been  driven  to  take  different  ground  by  his  posi- 
tion being  defined  for  him.     On  the  borders  of  Lake  Ontario 
lived  a  minister  named   Gray.     Those  who  knew  him  gen- 
erally designated  him  by  the  title  of  Elder  Gray.     He  was 
much  opposed  to  the  total  abstinence  movement,  sometimes 
declaring  it  to  be  unscriptural,  and  objecting  to  it  for  various 
other  reasons.     He  went  at  one  time  to  a  temperance  meet- 
ing, a  large  one,  and  the  manager  of  it  desired  him  to  open  the 
meeting  with  prayer.     Elder  Gray,  however,  would  not  pray, 
but  rose  and  stated  that  he  had  come  there  to  oppose  them, 
to  find  out  the  weakness  of  their  position,  and  that  he  would 
watch  them,  believing  that  their  position  was  unscriptural. 
After  he  had  sat  down,  a  noted  toper  of  the  place  rose,  and, 
taking  his  almost  crownless  hat  in  his  hand,  he  waved  it 
round  his  head,  exclaiming,  "  Hooray  for  Elder  Gray !    Three 
cheers  for  Elder  Gray !  "     Here  the  position  of  the  minister 
was  defined  for  him.     Elder  Gray  was  extremely  offended  at 
this,  and  became  quite  indignant.     "  Sit  down,  I  tell  you," 
he   cried,  addressing  the  man  who  spoke.     Then,  throwing 
suspicious  glances  at  the  managers  and  looking  displeased,  he 
said,  "  I  don't  understand  this."     Everybody  else  understood 
it.     "  Have   you  a  pledge  here  ? "  he  at  last  interrogated. 
"  Yes,"  said  they ;  and,  on  its  being  handed  to  him,  he  wrote 
his  name  on  it.     Then  he   prayed,  and  it  was  a  wonderful 
prayer  for  the  temperance  movement.     This  was  after  he  saw 
his  position  defined  for  him,  saw  himself,  a  minister,  occupy- 
ing such  a  position,  and  heard  an  intoxicated  man  who  was 
witness  to  his  conduct  exclaiming,  "  Three  cheers  for  Elder 
Gray ! "      Thus,  if   men  do  not  define  their  position,  they 
sometimes  have  it  defined  for  them. 

A  gentleman,  the  cashier  of  a  bank,  once  said  to  me:   "I 


120  THE   CASHIER'S   STORY. 

was  a  good  temperance  man ;  I  drank  wine  and  the  lighter 
drinks,  but  I  opposed  the  use  of  ardent  spirits,  and  thought 
I  was  a  very  benevolent  man  indeed.  I  used  to  talk  on  tem- 
perance, and  go  home  arid  take  a  glass  of  wine  to  cheer  me 
up.  A  man  living  opposite  to  me  was  in  the  habit  of  getting 
drunk,  and  when  drunk  he  was  very  abusive  ;  and  he  had 
been  in  jail  for  it  several  times.  However,  I  thought  I  would 
endeavor  to  reform  him.  So  I  said,  'Why  don't  you  join 
our  temperance  society  ?  ' 

"'Join  what?' 

" '  Our  temperance  society.' 

"'Oh,  well,  I  could  be  just  as  good  a  temperance  man  as 
you  are,  and  as  drunk  as  a  fool  every  night  of  my  life.' 

"  '  Why,  how  so  ? ' 

" '  You  drink  wine,  don't  you  ?' 

" '  Yes,  I  do.' 

" '  Well,  if  I  could  afford  it,  I  would ;  I  drink  whiskey ; 
whiskey  is  my  wine,  and  wine  is  your  whiskey.'  To  use  his 
own  expression,  '  You  drink  for  the  fuddle,  and  I  drink  for 
the  fuddle ;  you  are  satisfied  with  a  little,  I  am  not  satisfied 
unless  I  get  a  good  deal ;  if  I  drink  one  glass,  I  must  have 
another ;  you  can  drink  one  glass  of  wine  and  go  about  your 
business,  I  can't.  If  I  were  as  well  off  as  you,  I  might  have 
all  my  arrangements  about  me,  and  be  as  good  a  temperance 
man  as  you  are.' 

"  '  But  then  our  positions  are  different ;  3^011  had  better  sign 
the  pledge  that  you  will  not  drink  anything  that  intoxicates.' 

"'Will  you?' 

" '  Well,  in  my  case,  you  know,  it  is  not  at  all  necessary.' 

"  '  Ugh  !     I  knew  you  would  n't ;  you  come  to  me  and  ask 

me  to  do  what  you  won't  do  yourself.     If  I  sign  the  pledge, 

I  must  make  a  sacrifice ;  you  give  up  nothing ;  you  can  sign 

the  pledge  and  drink  wine  and  the  lighter  drinks,  but  I  can't 


INFLUENCE  OF  EXAMPLE. 

afford  it ;  don't  you  think  you  are  a  very  benevolent  man  to 
talk  to  me  in  that  way  ? ' 

"'Well,  if  I  sign  the  pledge  that  I  will  not  drink  any 
intoxicating  liquor  at  all,  will  you  ? ' 

" 4  Yes,  I  will ;  I  will  dare  you  to  do  it  ? ' 

"  We  went  into  the  bank ;  I  wrote  a  pledge,  and  both  of 
us  signed  it.  'Now,  don't  break  it  without  coming  to  the 
bank  to  tell  me  that  you  are  going  to  break  it,  and  then  we 
can  both  break  it  together.'  I  saw  him  two  or  three  days 
afterwards,  and  said  to  him,  4  How  do  you  get  along  ? '  '  Oh,' 
said  he,  '  I  do  not  know  how  you  get  along,  Mr.  Segur,  but 
it  is  almost  death  to  me  ;  but  I  am  going  to  stick  to  it.' 
And  that  is  the  way  I  saved  him.  I  said  to  myself,  '  If  the 
other  method  will  not  save  him,  I  will  adopt  that  which  will.' ': 
And  I  say  that  no  man  can  exert  an  influence  to  save  his 
brother  unless  he  adopts  the  principle  which  he  asks  his 
brother  to  adopt. 

A  minister  of  the  gospel  said  to  me  :  "  I  took  my  brother 
with  me  to  a  temperance  meeting,  and  the  result  was,  he 
signed  the  pledge  and  is  now  a  Christian  man.  But  he  said 
to  me :  '  Brother,  if  you  had  asked  me  to  go  to  that  meeting 
and  had  not  been  an  abstainer  yourself,  had  not  shown  such 
a  respect  for  the  principles  there  advocated  as  to  adopt  them, 
instead  of  signing  the  pledge  I  should  have  laughed  at  the 
whole  matter ;  but  when  you  asked  me  to  go  to  that  meeting 
I  knew  you  respected  the  principles  that  were  advocated 
there,  and  adopted  them  yourself;  and  when  I  sat  by  your 
side  and  looked  at  you,  I  was  convinced  that  you  were  right, 
and  I  felt  that  I  could  not  possibly  resist,  so  I  gave  my  name 
and  my  influence.' ' 

The  vicar  of  a  certain  parish  in  Kent  once  said :  •  "  I  will 
tell  you  why  I  am  an  abstainer.  I  had  no  influence  for  good 
over  the  drunkards  in  my  parish  until  I  signed  the  pledge ; 


122 


A  MINISTER'S  TESTIMONY. 


for  it  was  no  use  to  say  to  them, '  Go  and  join  the  temperance 
society ;  go  among  the  teetotalers  and  sign  the  pledge.'  I  once 
saw  one  of  my  parishioners  very  much  intoxicated,  and  I  told 
him  that  I  was  very  much  ashamed  to  see  him  in  that  con- 
dition, a  nuisance  to  himself  and  a  disgrace  to  the  parish. 
'Now,'  said  I,  'why  don't  you 
do  as  I  used  to  do?'  He 
looked  at  me,  and  said,  'You 
kept  your  wine  in  your  cellar, 
and  took  it  regular  every  day. 
I  takes  mine  when  I  gets  my 
wages,  once  a  fortnight,  and 
then  perhaps  I  gets  drunk.' 
'  But  why  don't  you  do  as  I  do 
now,'  said  I;  'I  don't  drink 
wine  at  all.'  'Not  at  all,  sir?' 
'No,  I  drink  no  intoxicating 
liquor.'  '  No  ?  have  you  signed 
the  pledge?'  'Yes,  I  have.' 
4  Well,  sir,  if  you  can  give  up 
your  wine  and  your  spirits,  with 
all  the  company  you  have,  I  think 
I  can  give  up  my  beer,  and  I 
will,'  and  he  signed  the  pledge."  HE  is  COLD. 

Now  for  a  moment  let  us  look  at  some  of  the  reasons  given 
for  drinking,  or  some  of  the  excuses  for  taking  a  glass.  We 
total  abstainers  have  no  excuse  or  apology  to  offer  for  our 
position  of  antagonism  to  the  drink. 

A  man  once  rose  in  a  meeting  which  I  held  and  said,  "I 
will  sign  the  pledge  if  you  will  let  me  have  a  little  drop  when  I 
want  it  as  a  medicine."  When  a  man  prescribes  for  sickness  so 
long  in  advance,  I  look  at  him  with  suspicion.  I  said,  "When 
the  doctor  prescribes  it  you  may  take  it."  "  But,"  said  he, 


THE   MAN   WHO   DHINKS   BECAUSE 


COMICAL  EXCUSES  FOR  DRINKING. 


123 


"  I  don't  want  to  go  to  the  doctor  every  time  I  am  sick ;  I 
want  to  take  a  little  when  I  feel  I  need  it ;  if  you  will  let  me 
do  that  I  will  join  the  society,  because  I  think  you  are  doing 
a  great  work."  Anyone  would  give  us  his  name  in  that  way, 
for  it  would  cost  him  nothing.  "  When  I  feel  I  need  it ! " 
"  It  is  very  cold  to-day,  I  shiver  from  head  to  foot ;  I  must 
have  a  little  something  because  it  is  so  cold,  and  I  need  it."  Or, 
"  It  is  very  hot  to-day ;  dear  me !  such  weather  as  this  swelters 

a  man  to  death;  I 
must  have  something 
to  keep  me  up  in  such 
hot  weather;  I  need 
it."  Another  man 
drinks  a  little  in  sum- 
mer-time  because 
there  are  insects  in 
the  water,  and  spirits 
kill  them.  Another 
thinks  he  needs  some- 
thing in  winter-time 
because  it  is  so  hurtful  to  drink  cold  water.  Another  man  is 
very  ill ;  for  eighteen  years  he  has  taken  the  same  remedy, 
and  he  will  go  and  try  a  little  more  of  it.  Another  is  toler- 
ably well,  but  the  weather-glass  is  falling,  and  the  last  time 
the  wind  was  in  that  quarter  it  gave  him  a  terrible  pain  ;  he 
needs  something  as  a  preventive,  and  he  will  try  it  once 
more.  This  reminds  me  of  the  man  who  wanted  some  brandy 
and  water.  "  I  must  have  it  this  morning,"  he  said,  "because 
I  am  so  thirsty,  but  what  makes  me  thirsty  I  do  not  know, 
unless  it  is  that  I  am  going  to  have  some  salt  fish  for  dinner." 
One  man  said  he  would  sign  the  pledge  if  they  would  let  him 
drink  when  they  washed  sheep,  that  being  usually  done  only 
once  a  year.  He  took  the  pledge  accordingly,  and  ob- 


THE    MAN  WHO   DRINKS   BECAUSE   HE   IS   HOT. 


124  KIDICULOUS   CUSTOMS. 

tained  a  sheep  which  he  kept  in  his  barn  and  washed  regu- 
larly four  times  a  day  all  the  year  round,  till  he  washed  the 
poor  creature  nearly  to  death.  I  heard  a  man  say  that 
because  he  heard  a  sentiment  advanced  at  a  temperance 
meeting  that  he  did  not  like,  he  went  home  and  began 
drinking  again.  That  was  just  as  silly  as  the  boy  that  said, 
"  Mother,  if  you  don't  give  me  a  penny,  I  know  another  boy 
that 's  got  the  measles,  and  I  '11  go  and  catch  'em."  We  have 
to  meet  with  many  such  contemptible  excuses  for  drinking. 

One  obstacle  to  our  success  is  the  tenacity  with  which 
some  persons  cling  to  the  fashionable  drinking  customs.  I 
know  but  little  of  the  custom  of  persons  at  table  "  taking 
wine  together,"  though  I  know  enough  to  be  aware  of  what 
it  is.  It  is  a  silly  custom.  You  smile  at  a  lady  and  ask  her 
to  take  wine.  She  smiles  and  bows.  The  waiter  then  fills  her 
glass  and  fills  yours.  Then  you  take  the  wineglass  in  your 
hand,  and  smile.  You  must  smile.  Even  if  you  have  the 
toothache  very  badly,  you  must  smile.  It  may  be  an  agoniz- 
ing smile,  but  you  must  smile.  Then  she  smiles  and  bows  and 
sips,  and  3^011  smile  and  bow  and  sip,  then  both  smile  and  bow 
together,  and  it  is  all  over.  Now  suppose  I  should  ask  the 
lacty,  "  May  I  take  a  small  piece  of  bread  and  butter  with  you?  " 
She  bows  and  smiles.  The  waiter  gives  her  a  piece  of  bread 
and  butter,  and  I  take  a  piece ;  and  she  takes  her  piece  of 
bread  and  butter,  and  smiles  and  bows  and  bites ;  I  do  the 
same,  and  while  we  both  masticate,  we  smile  and  bow  to- 
gether. It  would  be  perfectly  ridiculous,  but  not  more  so 
than  this  custom  of  drinking  and  bowing  and  smiling  over  a 
glass  of  wine,  and  far  less  injurious.  It  does  not,  and  cannot, 
hurt  a  man  or  woman  to  eat  a  small  piece  of  bread  and  butter, 
but  it  may  do  a  vast  deal  of  harm  to  take  a  glass  of  wine. 
I  do  not  say  it  will,  but  it  may.  There  is  a  risk. 

But  we  want  men  who  are  decided  on  this  subject;  men 


A   COVETED  PAIR   OF  BOOTS. 


125 


who  know  where  they  are.     I  remember  once  hearing  of  a 

Dutchman  who  lost  his  boy.     He  said :  "  I  lost  my  poy,  and  I 

could  not  find  him  novheres,  never.     He  ruimed  avay,  and  I 

vent  after  him,  and  I  looks  and  looks  all  rount,  and  finds  him 

on  de  curbstone,  and  I  feels  very  pad.     I  dells  him  to  go  home 

along  mit  his  fader,  and  he  say  he  vould.     I  dinks  to  mineself, 

'  I  got  dat  poy  now.'     I 

look  at  him,  and  he  look 

at  me,  and  den  I  cry,  and 

he  cry,  and  we  bote  cry. 

And  den  I   dell   him  to 

stood  up,  and   he    stood 

up.      And    I    look    him 

right  in  de  face,  and  he 

look  me  right  in  de  face, 

and  I  put  my  arms  rount  his 

neck,  and  —  it  vas  not  him." 

If  this  course  of  so-called 
moderate  drinking  goes  on, 
then  the  ranks  or  he  drunk- 
ards will  be  filled.  And  what 
shall  we  do?  That  is  the  ques- 
tion. Fight  the  drink  !  Fight 
it,  fight  it  wherever  we  find 
it,  fight  it  in  the  social  circle, 
fight  it  in  the  dram-shop, 
fight  it  at  home,  and  fight  it  abroad.  No  compromise ! 
I  am  not  one  of  those  who  believe  in  compromises.  These 
compromises  are  very  curious  things.  I  once  heard  of  a 
negro  who  was  talking  with  another  negro  about  his  expe- 
rience, and  he  said,  "Oh,  I'm  awfully  tempted,  dreffully 
tempted."  "  Well,  how  are  you  tempted  ?  "  "  Oh,  I  'm  tempted 
to  steal,  dar  's  where  I  'm  tempted  —  tempted  to  steal,  can't 


DE   DEBBIL   SAYS    'TAKE   JEM.' 


126 


A   "FEARFUL   EXAMPLE.' 


resist.  Why,  I  went  into  a  boot  and  shoe  store  de  odder  day. 
Dere  was  a  handsome  pair  of  boots  ;  handsomest  pair  of  boots 
I  eber  saw  in  my  life.  Dem  was  bery  expensive  boots,  dem 
was ;  de  best  boots  I  eber  set  my  eyes  on.  An'  I  wanted  'em. 
De  debbil  says,  'Take  'em.'  De  Lawd  says,  'Leave  'em 
alone.'  Now  what  was  I  going  to  do  ?  I  wanted  dem  boots. 
Debbil  says,  'Take  'em,'  and  de  Lawd  says,  'Let  'em  alone.' 

Dat  's  two  to 
one ;  we  is  in 
cl'ar  majority, 
an'  I  don't 
know  what  to 
do.  So  I  jes' 
made  a  compro- 
mise w  i  d  d  e 
Lawd,  an'  took 
a  cheap  pair  of 
shoes  off  anoder 
shelf,  and  walk 
off  wid  'em." 

Some  of  these 
people  who  re- 
gard the  m- 
selves  as  advo- 
cates of  the  cause  do  more  harm  than  good.  I  remember 
reading  a  story  of  a  man  who  was  drunk,  and  a  gentleman 
came  to  him  and  said,  "What  are  you  doing?"  "Doing? 
Well,  that's  just  what  I'm  doing."  "No,  but  what  are  you 
about  ?  "  "  What  am  I  about  ?  That 's  just  exactly  what  I 
am  about."  "But  what  is  your  business?"  "Business? 
I  'm  in  the  temperance  business."  "  In  the  temperance  busi- 
ness. Why,  how  in  the  world  do  you  make  that  out  ? " 
"  Why  look  here :  you  see  I  've  got  a  brother,  and  he  's  a 


THE        FEARFUL   EXAMPLE. 


PEOPLE  HARD  TO  PLEASE.  127 

temperance  lecturer,  and  I  go  along  with  him  as  the  fearful 
example  of  the  evils  of  intemperance."  I  do  not  know  but 
that  man  was  honest,  for  a  man  will  think  anything  almost, 
when  he  is  in  the  habit  of  drinking. 

Our  method  is  simple,  it  is  lawful,  and  it  is  expedient,  when 
we  adopt  it  for  the  sake  of  others.  And  I  ask,  if  a  principle 
is  worth  adopting  for  the  sake  of  example  to  save  others,  is  it 
not  worth  adopting  for  its  own  sake? 

We  need,  and  ask  for,  your  influence.  Many  persons  are 
afflicted  with  a  great  deal  of  modesty,  and  when  asked  to  sign 
the  pledge,  say,  "  I  don't  know  that  I  have  any  particular  in- 
fluence." Such  persons  would  not  be  pleased  if  I  should  say 
they  had  no  particular  influence.  I  once  made  a  man  very 
angry  who  said,  "  I  don't  know  that  I  have  any  particular  in- 
fluence." I  said,  "  I  don't  know  that  you  have."  He  was 
quite  vexed  because  I  agreed  with  him.  He  was  like  the  man 
that  stood  up  in  a  church  meeting  and  said  that  he  had  not 
been  as  good  a  man  as  he  ought  to  have  been,  and  that  he 
had  cheated  and  over-reached  people ;  he  would  now  confess 
and  declare  that  it  should  not  be  so  any  more.  A  friend 
rose  and  said,  "  I  am  very  glad  our  brother  has  confessed 
and  repented,  for  I  can  testify  to  the  truth  of  every  word 
he  has  said."  "It  is  false,"  was  the  immediate  reply. 

Many  excuse  themselves  by  under-rating  their  own  ability 
or  influence,  asking,  "  What  can  I  do  ?  If  I  should  give  up 
my  position  in  this  matter  for  you,  what  good  can  I  do  ?  " 
When  that  boy  went  to  hear  Jesus  Christ  preach,  we  may  say 
that  he  went  as  we  would  go  nowadays  to  a  camp-meeting. 
His  mother  put  him  up  a  little  lunch,  five  small  barley  loaves 
and  a  few  fishes.  Five  thousand  hungry  folks  were  gathered 
there  ;  they  came  to  the  boy  for  his  loaves  and  fishes.  He 
might  have  said,  "  They  are  only  enough  for  myself.  Mother 
put  them  up  for  my  lunch.  I  cannot  give  up  my  cakes.  It 


128 


QUEER  IDEAS   OF  FAITH. 


would  not  be  of  any  use  if  I  did."  But  no,  he  did  not  say 
this ;  he  gave  up  his  cakes.  And  —  what  ?  The  Master 
blessed  them,  and  the  live  thousand  were  fed,  and  there  were 
twelve  basketsful  left.  Now,  I  say  to  you,  man  or  woman, 
child  or  youth,  bring  your  five  barley  cakes  and  ask  the  Mas- 
ter to  bless  them,  and  you  will  see  the  result ;  for  it  is  the 
small  things  that  He  makes  mighty,  through  His  power, 
to  the  overturning  of  things 
that  are  great.  All  we  need 
is  faith,  and  our  work  will 
then  be  faith  in  action. 

Some  people  have  curious 
ideas  about  faith.  A  lady  in 
Edinburgh  said  to  me  :  "  There," 
pointing  to  him,  uis  a  boy  who 
illustrates  some  people's  ideas  of 
faith.  As  we  were  going  from 
Edinburgh  to  Dunfermline,  the  ves- 
sel struck  a  rock  and  began  to  set- 
tle. A  tug  pushed  out  from  the 
shore  to  take  off  the  passengers, 
•and  my  boy  said,  'Oh,  mamma,  we 
are  all  going  to  drown.'  4  My  dar- 
ling, have  I  not  always  told  you  to 
trust  in  Providence  ? '  '  Yes,  mamma,  and  I  will  trust  in 
Providence  as  quick  as  ever  I  get  into  that  boat.' '  Once, 
when  a  vessel  was  in  danger,  a  lady  said  to  the  captain, 
"Captain,  are  we  in  any  danger?"  "Yes,  ma'am,  there  is 
nothing  left  for  us  now  but  to  trust  in  Providence."  And 
she  said,  "Goodness  gracious,  has  it  come  to  that?"  What 
strange  ideas  people  have  of  Providence  !  A  washerwoman, 
whose  little  shanty  was  burnt  down,  as  she  stood  before  the 
ruin,  shut  her  fist  and  said,  "  You  see  if  I  don't  work  on 


A  DliEADFUL   THKEAT. 


WHAT  IS  FAITH?  129 

Sundays  to  pay  for  that,"  just  as  if  the  Lord  had  brought 
down  her  shanty,  and  she  would  get  satisfaction  by  break- 
ing one  of  His  commandments. 

Men  have  strange  ideas  of  God's  dealings  with  us,  and  of 
faith  in  Him.  What  is  faith?  To  walk  right  on  to  the  edge 
of  the  precipice,  and  then  stop  ?  No,  walk  on !  What,  set 
my  feet  upon  nothing  ?  Yes,  upon  nothing,  if  it  is  in  the 
path  of  duty ;  boldly  set  your  feet  on  nothing,  and  a  solid 
rock,  firm  as  the  everlasting  hills,  shall  meet  your  feet  at 
every  step  you  take  in  the  path  of  duty,  only  do  it  unwaver- 
ingly and  in  faith.  What  we  have  to  do  is  to  settle  the  point 
that  we  are  right ;  and  then  onward. 

You  remember,  when  the  children  of  Israel  went  out  of 
Egypt,  when  they  were  a  band  of  escaped  fugitives.  Their 
ranks  were  encumbered  with  many  women  and  children,  and 
their  mighty,  but  meek,  leader  was  armed  only  with  a  rod. 
Here  come  the  chariots  and  horsemen  of  Pharaoh,  treading 
on  their  very  shadow.  A  pillar  of  fire  went  before  the 
Israelites  by  night,  and  a  pillar  of  cloud  by  day ;  and  they 
marched  till  they  came  to  the  shores  of  the  Red  Sea,  and 
then  —  what  ?  Read  the  magnificent  narrative.  And  the 
Lord  God  said  unto  Moses  from  out  of  the  cloud,  "Speak 
to  the  children  of  Israel  that  they  go  forward."  That 
was  the  only  command.  How  can  they  go  forward  ?  There 
is  no  other  command  for  them  ;  but  to  Moses  came  these 
words:  "Stretch  forth  thy  rod,"  and  the  way  opened.  God 
never  yet  gave  us  a  duty  to  do  but  he  opened  the  way  for 
us  when  we  were  ready  to  do  it.  He  never  yet  gave  an 
impossible  command.  So  Moses  stretched  forth  his  rod  and 
the  water  stood  in  heaps.  Tramp,  tramp,  tramp  went  the  three 
millions  over  the  bed  of  the  sea,  and  their  enemies  came 
in  after  them  in  the  night-time.  Now  —  what  ?  "  Forward ! " 
"But  our  enemies  are  in  the  rear."  "Forward!"  "Yes, 


130  GOD  SPEED  THE  RIGHT. 

but  before  us  is,  —  we  know  not  what,  —  and  the  waters  are 
on  either  side."  "  Forward  !  "  "  Yes,  but  we  can  feel  the 
very  breath  of  the  horses  upon  our  necks,  and  hear  the 
chariot  wheels  grind  in  the  shingle  as  they  pursue  us." 
"Forward!"  "Yes,  but  we  must  defend  our  wives  and 
little  ones."  "Forward!"  And  the  pillar  that  went  before 
them  passed  over  and  stood  in  their  rear.  It  was  light  unto 
them,  it  was  darkness  to  their  enemies ;  "  and  they  came  not 
near  each  other  all  the  night."  Those  who  had  obeyed  the 
command,  "  forward ! "  stood  on  the  other  side,  and  then 
the  Lord  God  looked  out  from  the  pillar  of  fire,  and  troubled 
the  Egyptians,  and  brake  their  chariot  wheels.  Those  who 
had  obeyed  the  command,  "  forward ! "  saw  the  wrecks  of 
chariots,  and  the  carcasses  of  the  horses,  and  the  bodies  of 
men  strewing  the  strand.  Let  us  settle  the  question,  "  Am  I 
right?"  And  then,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  march  on,  our 
motto,  "Excelsior;"  our  hope,  that  there  is  a  better  day 
coming ;  and  our  prayer,  "  God  speed  the  right." 


CHAPTER  IV. 


BLUNDERS,    COMICAL,   CURIOUS,    SERIOUS,    AND    CRIMINAL, 
AND  PEOPLE   WHO  MAKE   THEM  —  FUNNY   STORIES. 

Various  Sources  of  Blunders  —  Heading  a  Boy  in  a  Barrel  —  Absent-minded 
People  —  Anecdote  of  Dr.  Duncan  —  Amusing  Incidents  —  Ministerial 
Blunders  — The  Pibroch  and  the  Slogan  — The  "Coisoned  Pup"  — 
Laughable  Mistakes  —  Blunders  of  the  Past  —  Blunders  of  Society  —  Irish 
Bulls  —  Killing  a  Man  Twice—  The  "Red  Cow"  — Common  Errors  — 
Misuse  of  Words  —  Blunders  in  Language  —  A  Musician  with  Carved 
Legs  —  Religious  Horses  —  Human  Parasites  —  The  Curse  of  Mormonism — 
Serious  Blunders  —  Sowing  Dragons'  Teeth — Office  Seekers — How  to 
Secure  Honest  Legislation  —  Curious  Blunders  in  Literature  —  Sacrificing 
Sense  to  Rhyme  —  The  Lawyer  and  the  Sailor  —  Neatly  Caught  —  Funny 
Blunders  —  A  Viper  with  Feet  —  "  No.  45,  Stick  No  Bills  "—  "  Let  Her 
Drop  "  —  Moulting  Angels  — Take  Your  Soundings. 

Y  the  term  "blunders"  I  em- 
brace a  wide  range  of  mean- 
j  ing:    errors,  mistakes,  bulls, 
and  the  like,  —  an  error  being 
a  departure  or  deviation  from 
that  which  is  right ;  mistake, 
the  taking  of   one  thing  for 
another;  a  blunder  being  a  mistake 
or  error  of  the   grossest   kind,  and 
generally  considered  blamable,  usu- 
ally exposing  a  person  to  shame  or 
ridicule;  while  a  bull   is   simply  a 

verbal  blunder,  containing  a  laughable  incongruity  of  ideas. 
One  source  of  blunders  is  the  failure  to  fasten  the  mind  on  the 
business  which  is  immediately  in  hand.  The  mechanic  spoils 
his  work  by  thinking  of  something  else.  A  cooper  puts  his 

131 


132  AMUSING  INCIDENTS. 

son  inside  the  barrel  to  hold  up  the  head,  and  finds,  when  he 
has  finished,  that  his  boy  is  headed  in  the  barrel,  with  no  way 
of  escape  but  through  the  bung-hole, — a  foolish  blunder. 
A  dentist  may  extract  the  wrong  tooth,  —  a  stupid  blunder. 
A  physician  may  prescribe  the  wrong  medicine,  or  a  druggist 
may  put  up  the  wrong  prescription,  —  criminal  blunders. 
Another  source  is  chronic,  permanent,  and  habitual  absent- 
mindedness.  Dr.  Duncan  of  Edinburgh,  while  going  to  a 
meeting,  took  out  his  paper  of  snuff;  the  wind  blew;  he 
turned  to  leeward  to  take  his  pinch,  forgot  that  he  had 
turned,  walked  straight  away  from  the  meeting,  and  failed  to 
fulfil  his  engagement.  Another  eminent  Scotch  divine,  Dr. 
Lawson,  was  constantly  blundering  from  this  cause.  He  was 
often  so  absorbed  in  his  studies  as  to  confound  the  realities 
of  life  with  his  imagination.  Once,  he  left  his  lecture-room 
taking  with  him  a  student's  hat  instead  of  his  own  book 
which  he  was  to  carry  home.  Another  time  he  was  leaving 
the  house  with  a  lady's  bonnet  on  his  head,  the  bonnet  having 
been  left  hanging  on  a  peg  where  his  own  hat  ought  to  have 
been.  Once,  when  walking  in  a  heavy  shower,  a  friend 
loaned  him  an  umbrella,  which  he  carefully  put  under  his 
coat,  through  fear  of  wetting  it.  On  one  occasion,  while  in 
his  study,  intent  on  his  books,  the  servant  rushed  in,  exclaim- 
ing, "  Sir,  sir,  the  house  is  on  fire !  "  The  Doctor  did  not 
intermit  his  studies  for  a  moment,  but  simply  said,  "  Go  and 
tell  your  mistress.  I  have  no  charge  of  household  matters, 
so  do  not  disturb  me."  The  celebrated  Neander  would  start 
from  his  house  to  his  lecture  in  his  night-gown,  only  to  be 
brought  back  by  his  sister.  Once,  having  put  one  foot  in 
the  gutter,  he  hobbled  along  the  whole  length  of  the  street, 
and,  as  soon  as  he  reached  home,  hastily  sent  for  the  doc- 
tor to  cure  him  of  his  imaginary  lameness. 

Sometimes  blunders  occur  through  a  sensitive  desire  to 


HINTS   TO   DIFFIDENT  PEOPLE. 


133 


avoid  them.  If,  in  carrying  a  pan  of  water,  you  spill  the 
liquid  on  one  side,  you  are  almost  certain  to  spill  it  on  the 
other.  In  rolling  ten-pins,  if  you  roll  your  ball  off  the  alley 
on  one  side,  at  the  next  roll  it  is  almost  sure  to  go  off  on  the 
other.  A  diffident  person  who  has  been  studying  and  posing 

for  appearance  at 


the  coming  party, 
is  almost  certain 
to  make  a  succes- 
sion of  blunders 
in  the  effort  to  be 
easy  and  graceful. 
The  orator  who 
is  over  anxious 
for  appearances, 
appropriate  ges- 
tures, or  the  very 
precise  modula- 
tions of  his  voice, 
is  apt  to  become 
artificial,  and  is 
almost  sure  to 
blunder  either  by 
an  inappropriate 
gesture,  or  by 
crying  at  the 
wrong  time.  A 

speaker  should  not  be  striving  for  pretty  sentences  or  obedi- 
ence to  certain  rules.  Bunyan  would  have  blundered  into 
the  Slough  of  Despond,  and  stayed  there,  if  he  had  aimed  to 
write  prettily  rather  than  vigorously  and  usefully.  An 
orator  is  the  least  apt  to  blunder  who  is  natural,  who  has 
something  to  say,  and  says  it. 


"SIR!  sm!  THE  HOUSE  is  ON  FIRE! 


134  THE   "COISONED   PUP." 

Ludicrous  blunders  arise  in  attempting  to  correct  them. 
A  clergyman,  using  as  an  illustration  the  scene  at  Lncknow 
where  Jessie  Brown  cries  out,  "  Dinna  ye  hear  it,  the  pi- 
broch and  the  slogan  ? "  said,  "  Dinna  ye  hear  it,  the  pigan 
and  the  slobroch  ?  "  A  friend  told  him  of  his  blunder,  and 
he,  wishing  to  be  correct,  took  occasion  at  the  evening  service 
to  say :  "  I  have  been  informed  that  I  said  in  the  morning 
sermon,  4  the  pigan  and  the  slobroch ; '  I  intended  saying, 
'the  slobroch  and  the  pigan/  Receive  the  blessing."  One 
minister  could  never  say,  "  Sweet  for  bitter,  and  bitter  for 
sweet ; "  but,  in  his  nervous  efforts  to  be  correct,  invariably 
repeated,  "  Switter  for  beet,  and  beet  for  switter."  Macready 
tells  of  an  actor  who,  in  rendering  the  words,  "  The  poisoned 
cup,"  constantly  said,  uthe  coisoned  pup,"  to  the  great 
delight  of  his  audiences.  On  one  occasion  he  rendered  it 
correctly.  Instantly  there  was  an  uproar,  and  he  was  not 
permitted  to  proceed  till  he  had  given  "  the  coisoned  pup," 
and  was  rewarded  with  shouts  of  applause. 

While  innocent  and  most  amusing  blunders  are  constantly 
occurring,  giving  occasion  for  merriment  and  making  whole- 
some changes  of  thought  and  feeling  from  grave  to  gay,  there 
are  also  many  that  take  hold  on  our  deepest  life.  Often,  just 
the  thought  of  them  sweeps  off  the  foam  from  the  waves  of 
our  daily  experience,  and  compels  us  to  note  the  tremendous 
under-roll  of  blunders  that  shift  our  barks,  yours  and  mine, 
from  crest  of  wave  to  trough  of  sea  on  the  ocean  of  our 
lives.  Now,  if  the  cargo  we  carry  is  more  precious  than 
gold,  is  it  not  of  grave  consequence  that  we  make  no  mis- 
takes in  our  navigation  ? 

Have  we  blundered  in  the  past  ?  Yes.  For  many  years, 
great  sections  tried  to  believe,  and  to  crowd  all  others  to 
admit,  the  doctrine  that  some  of  the  races  had  no  rights  that 
others  were  bound  to  respect.  For  years  a  sleepless  endeavor 


DIREFUL  RESULTS   OF  A   BLUNDER.  135 

was  made  to  bend  and  twist  all  social,  and  organized,  and 
legislative  life  to  the  justification  and  protection  of  this  infa- 
mous doctrine.  For  many  years,  only  a  few  heard  a  voice  say- 
ing, "  Shall  not  I  visit  for  these  things  ?  "  Even  the  holiest 
things  and  the  holiest  book  were  fiercely  held  and  bent  and 
twisted,  too,  to  make  them  justify  this  doctrine.  "  What 
came  of  it  ? "  You  remember  the  hour  when  there  was  a 
high  and  resistless  interference  with  our  blind,  cowardly, 
and  wicked  treaties  with  the  great  wrong  of  slavery,  and 
half  a  million  lives  were  the  direct  victims,  a  million  more, 
less  direct,  and  the  heavy  burdens  laid  on  us  for  many  years 
to  come  showed  to  the  world  the  awful  blunder  we  had  made. 
Now,  shall  we  let  other  seeds,  noxious  and  baleful,  grow  and 
spread  and  multiply  a  myriadfold,  while  we  sleep  as  we  did, 
when  the  moral  sense  of  the  nation  was  drugged,  in  the  mat- 
ter of  slavery?  In  what  a  condition  are  masses  of  the  children 
of  this  nation  ?  The  mortality  of  children  in  poor  localities 
in  large  cities  reveals  a  fearful  blunder  of  society  in  its 
neglect  of  these  pitiable  objects.  Six  hundred  and  forty- 
eight  of  these  little  ones  died  under  five  years  of  age  in 
one  week  in  the  city  of  New  York.  At  that  rate,  in  one 
month  two  per  cent  of  all  the  children  in  that  city  would 
be  swept  away. 

We  are  apt  to  call  all  blunders  that  arise  from  the  misuse 
of  words,  bulls ;  and  most  of  these  we  attribute  to  the  Irish. 
Miss  Edgeworth,  in  her  essay  on  Irish  bulls,  observes  that  it 
never  yet  has  been  decided  what  it  is  that  constitutes  a  bull. 
The  Duke  of  Argyll  says  that  the  definition  she  means  is  not 
the  definition  of  a  bull,  but  the  definition  of  that  kind  of 
bull  supposed  to  be  especially  Irish,  and  she  gives  an  illustra- 
tion :  "  When  I  first  saw  you,  I  thought  it  was  you,  but  now 
I  see  it  is  your  brother."  Carleton,  in  his  "  Traits  of  the 
Irish  Peasantry,"  says  that  Miss  Edgeworth  wrote  an  essay 


136 


BULLS   OF   VARIOUS  NATIONS. 


on  that  which  does  not,  and  never  did,  exist ;  and  he  further 
says  that  the  source  of  this  error  in  reference  to  Irish  bulls  is 
in  the  fact  that  their  language  is  in  a  transition  state,  the 
English  tongue  gradually  superseding  the  Irish,  and  their 
blunders  are  the  result  of  the  use  of  a  language  they  do  not 
fully  understand.  We  find  ludicrous  blundering  by  the 
French  and  Germans  when  learning  another  language,  such 

as,  "  My  boy  bit  himself  mit 
a  little  dog,"  etc. ;  but  there 
is  a  neatness  and  complete- 
ness of  confusion  in  an  IHsh 
bull  which  is  inimitable  and 
unapproachable,  and  which 
constitutes  at  once  its  humor 
and  its  innocence.  The  bulls 
of  other  nations  have  the 
absurdity  without  the  fun. 
The  pure  bull  is  the  contra- 
diction in  terms,  the  assertion 
of  something  which  is  denied 
in  the  very  terms  of  the  as- 
sertion, or  the  denial  of  some- 
thing which  is  asserted  in  the 
terms  of  the  denial,  some- 
A  hat  was  passed  around  to  col- 
lect a  shilling  from  each  person  at  a  meeting ;  the  deacon  who 
counted  the  money  exclaimed,  "Here  's  a  shilling  short;  who 
put  it  in?"  A  lady  wrote  to  her  friend,  "I  met  you  this 
morning,  and  you  didn't  come;  I'll  meet  you  to-morrow 
morning  whether  you  come  or  not."  A  man  remarked 
to  his  friend,  "If 'I  had  stayed  in  that  climate  till  now,  I'd 
have  been  dead  two  years  ago."  His  friend  remarked,  "  Ah, 
if  I  only  knew  where  people  never  died,  I  'd  end  my  days 


A   SHILLING   SHORT. 


*times  apparently  obscure. 


ENGLISH   BULLS.  137 

there."  One  said,  "I  see  no  reason  why  women  should  not 
become  medical  men.''  During  the  Irish  rebellion,  some  of 
the  insurgents,  being  very  angry  at  a  banker,  determined  to 
ruin  him.  They  collected  all  his  bank  notes  and  destroyed 
them,  thus  making  his  fortune.  An  Irish  paper  published 
this  item :  "  A  deaf  man  named  Taff  was  run  down  by  a 
passenger-train,  and  killed  on  Wednesday.  He  was  injured 
in  a  similar  way  about  a  year  ago."  I  will  dismiss  the  Irish 
bulls  by  a  story  that  was  told  me  in  Ireland.  An  Irish  gen- 
tleman was  entertained  by  a  party  of  Englishmen  at  a  hotel 
in  a  certain  town  in  England,  and  the  conversation  turned 
on  Irish  bulls,  and  the  Irish  gentleman,  being  a  little  nettled, 
said :  "  Bulls,  bulls,  what  are  you  bothering  me  about  bulls 
for?  You  can't  talk  about  an  Irishman  without  speaking  of 
a  bull.  You  have  as  many  bulls  in  England  as  we.  In  Eng- 
land you  are  bull-headed,  and  bull-tempered,  and  bull-necked ; 
you  are  John  Bull;  you  are  bull  all  over.  Now,  you  can't 
put  up  a  sign  on  a  public-house  without  sticking  up  a  bull. 
In  the  very  street  where  we  are  sitting  now,  there  are  six 
public-houses  with  signs  of  bulls."  uOh,  no,"  said  one  of 
the  gentlemen,  "not  so  many  as  that."  "But  I  tell  you 
there  are,  just  so  many."  "  No,  we  have  counted  them,  and 
we  know  there  are  not  six."  "  Well,  I  will  wager  the  din- 
ner for  the  company  in  the  same  place  where  we  are  sitting 
now  that  there  are  six  public-houses  with  signs  of  bulls  on 
them."  "  Very  well,  let's  hear  them."  "  There  is  the  White 
Bull,  that's  one;  the  Black  Bull  is  two;  the  Brown  Bull  is 
three  ;  the  Spotted  Bull  is  four ;  the  Pied  Bull  is  five,  — ." 
"Ah,  that's  all,  that's  all."  "No,  there's  another  one." 
"Ah,  but  we  know  better."  "I  tell  you  there's  another 
one.  Black,  white,  brown,  spotted,  pied,  and  there 's  the 
Red  Cow."  "  Ha,  ha  !  That 's  an  Irish  bull."  "  Very  well, 
if  the  Red  Cow  is  an  Irish  bull,  that  makes  six,  and  I  've 
won  my  wager." 


138 


EVERYDAY  BLUNDERS. 


Now,  we  make  as  many  blunders  in  language  as  the  Irish. 
We  say,  we  shell  peas  when  we  unshell  them ;  we  husk  corn 
when  we  unhusk  it;  we  dust  the  furniture  when  we  undust 
it ;  we  skin  a  calf  when  we  unskin  it ;  we  weed  a  garden 
when  we  unweed  it ;  we  unbend  when  we  bend ;  we  boil  the 

kettle,  etc.  I  once  saw 
a  notice  on  a  ferry  boat, 
"Persons  are  requested 
not  to  leave  the  boat 
until  made  fast  to  the 
dock."  A  man,  in  de- 
fence of  tobacco,  said  : 
•'There's  my  father,  he 
smokes  and 
chews,  and  he 
is  eighty  years 
old."  "  Ah," 
said  his  oppo- 
nent, "if  he  had 
not  used  tobac- 
co, he  might 
have  been  nine- 
ty by  this  time." 
A  colored 
preacher  said : 
"There  will  be 
a  fo'  days'  meet- 
ing every  night  next  week  except  Wednesday  afternoon." 
A  woman,  rebuking  her  two  boys,  said:  "Now,  if  you  don't 
quit,  I  '11  tell  both  your  fathers."  I  heard  a  person  say  of  his 
neighbor,  "He  died  and  made  a  will."  A  woman  fell  into  a 
well,  and  said:  "  Tf  it  had  not  been  for  Providence  and 
another  woman,  I  should  never  have  got  out."  During  an 


A  "FO'  DAYS'  MEETING.' 


NATIONAL   BLUNDERS.  139 

epidemic,  a  man  said  :  "  There  are  a  great  many  people  dying 
this  year,  who  never  died  before."  A  minister  announced, 
"A  young  woman  died  suddenly  last  Sabbath  while  I  was 
preaching  in  a  state  of  beastly  intoxication."  Blunders  in 
advertisements  are  illimitable.  "All  persons  in  this  town 
owning  dogs  shall  be  muzzled."  "  Wanted :  Two  appren- 
tices who  will  be  treated  as  one  of  the  family."  "  Lost :  a 
large  lady's  bead  bag."  "To  be  sold:  a  piano-forte,  the 
property  of  a  musician  with  carved  legs."  An  advertise- 
ment of  a  washing-machine  commenced,  "Everyman  his  own 
washerwoman."  In  a  western  paper,  a  person  advertised  for 
a  young  man  to  take  care  of  a  pair  of  horses  of  a  religious 
turn  of  mind.  Then  there  are  blunders  of  omission  and  com- 
mission in  legislation  that  have  their  causes  away  back  in  the 
places  where  men  vote  heedlessly  and  carelessly,  when  ster- 
ling honesty  and  an  upright  conscience  are  ignored  in  a  can- 
didate, and  some  plausible  Mr.  By-ends  gets  the  great  power 
to  legislate.  Why  is  it  that  while  the  legislator,  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  people,  should  be,  like  Csesar's  wife,  above 
suspicion,  there  should  be  the  curl  of  the  lip,  the  unspoken 
sneer,  the  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  and  the  contemptuous 
word  at  the  congressman?  Yet  there  is,  even  among  some 
thoughtful  and  wise  men.  Surely  this  is  not  because  the 
average  congressman,  assemblyman  or  representative  has 
made  his  place  shining  with  steadfast  virtue ;  not  because 
every  vote  and  every  speech  and  all  his  reflection  of  himself 
in  character  and  life  is  a  high  wall  of  smooth  rock  on  which 
no  lobbyist  could  climb,  no  parasite  of  an  office-seeker  could 
fasten  himself?  No,  but  there  has  been  such  trickery,  false- 
hood, bribery,  and  self-seeking  fastened  on  so  many  members, 
such  lack  of  principle,  such  mean  truckling  to  the  veriest 
ragamuffin  or  rowdy  for  his  vote,  that,  like  the  dead  flies  in 
the  ointment  of  the  apothecary,  they  have  injured  the  repu- 


140  OUR  NATION'S  DISGRACE. 

tatioii  of  the  whole  body  of  legislators.  When  this  is  the 
case,  somebody  has  blundered  fearfully.  Ought  not  such 
blunders  to  be  charged  to  the  electors,  who  fail  to  remember 
that  it  is  righteousness  that  exalts  a  nation ;  who  fail  to 
remember  that  when  any  people  "  establish  iniquity  by  law," 
even  in  their  material  luxury  and  prosperity,  there  is  cause 
for  alarm.  Of  this,  the  careful  reader  of  history  all  down 
the  ages  can  be  assured,  not  even  the  unfinished  histories 
falsifying  this  truth. 

Think  you,  if  the  voters  who  send  men  to  Congress  had 
been  faithful  to  their  high  privilege,  that  the  huge  moral 
ulcer  at  Salt  Lake  City  could  still  continue  to  spread  in  spite 
of  all  the  efforts  by  Congress  to  suppress  the  abomination  ? 
I  was  once  asked  by  a  gentleman  if  I  had  ever  read  the 
life  of  Madame  Du  Barry,  and  he  advised  me  if  I  had  not,  to 
read  it.  I  think  I  never  read  of  such  awful  depravity  and 
wickedness  as  that  record  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.  It  was 
loathsome  and  disgusting,  yet  from  reliable  sources  of  infor- 
mation we  gather  facts  in  our  own  land  more  terrible  and 
more  abominable  than  any  that  were  ever  recorded  of  Louis 
XV.,  or  of  any  other  monarch.  In  a  letter  I  received  from  a 
minister  of  the  gospel  residing  at  Salt  Lake  City,  he  states 
that  a  couple  came  to  him  to  be  married  legally,  arid  he 
found  that  the  woman  had  five  living  husbands,  each  one  of 
them  separated  from  her  by  the  will  of  the  chief  man  of  this 
odious  system ;  and  there  were  other  statements  too  abom- 
inable for  print. 

What  a  tremendous  menace  to  all  justice  and  purity  and 
truth  are  the  secret,  oath-bound,  extra-judicial  organizations, 
where  the  free  air  of  public  discussion  and  comment  cannot 
blow  through,  nor  over,  nor  under,  their  principles  and 
doings !  Can  a  blunder  like  this  be  anything  but  a  sowing  of 
dragons'  teeth  broadcast  in  this  land,  and  are  not  the  recruits 


THE   CURSE   OF   OFFICE-SEEKING.  141 

of  this  great  army  of  wronged  and  cheated  women,  and 
duped  and  brutal  men  brought  from  your  vicinity  and  mine? 
You  say  it  is  only  the  ignorant  that  are  led  astray.  But  are 
not  the  ignorant  and  misled  entitled  to  all  the  protection 
that  the  intelligent  and  clear-sighted  can  give?  Then  let  us 
slum  the  blunder  that  narrows  knowledge  and  culture  to  the 
people,  and  puts  a  hook  in  their  nostrils  for  them  £o  be  led 
only  as  the  crafty  few  would  dictate ;  and  let  us  elect  such 
men  to  places  of  legislative  power  as  will  remember  that  it 
is  not  a  party,  or  an  office,  or  a  hierarch,  but  righteousness 
that  exalteth  a  nation.  What  a  pitiful  sight,  in  a  Christian 
land,  are  men  standing  before  their  fellow-citizens,  appealing 
to  the  basest  motives  of  the  base,  the  vilest  passions  of  the 
vile,  taking  advantage  of  the  ignorance  of  the  ignorant, 
fawning  on  the  lowest,  full  of  lies  and  all  deceit,  for  what? 
For  office,  where  they  may  plunder  those  who  send  them. 

Oh,  is  it  not  pitiful  to  see  men  so  rabid  with  the  madness 
for  office  that,  to  gain  it,  they  would  thrust  the  Bible  from 
our  common  schools,  and  tread  on  the  open  page  of  the 
desecrated  Scriptures  to  gain  place?  How  we  are  fallen 
since  Rufus  Choate  uttered  these  memorable  words  in  New 
York  City,  "What!  Banish  the  Bible  from  our  schools? 
Never,  while  there  is  a  piece  of  Plymouth  Rock  left  large 
enough  to  make  a  gun-flint  of."  Yes,  we  have  men  who  owe 
their  position  to-day,  and  the  ability  to  stand  where  they  do, 
to  the  education  received  in  our  common  schools,  who  would 
demolish  the  system  that  has  made  them,  and  make  our 
magnificent  institution  of  free  education  which  has  been,  and 
is,  the  admiration  of  the  world,  a  thing  of  the  past,  just  to 
lift  themselves  to  place  and  power.  I  declare  that  any  man 
who  dares  to  lift  hand  or  voice  against  that  free  common- 
school  system  which  is  the  glory  of  our  country,  either  to 
sustain  Mormonism,  or  for  the  sake  of  a  vote,  or  at  the  bid- 


142  PRIVATE  AND   PUBLIC   HONESTY. 

ding  of  a  priesthood,  is  guilty  of  treason  to  his  country, 
treason  against  humanity,  treason  against  God.  Thank  God, 
there  are  unstained  names  and  well-equipped  minds  in  whom 
honor  and  truth  are  regnant,  who  honor  public  office ;  but 
such  do  not  often  seek  it,  the  office  must  seek  them  if  it 
secures  their  services.  Would  that  the  day  might  come 
when  for  a  man  to  seek  public  office  from  dishonorable 
motives,  or  for  merely  selfish  ends,  would  be  to  secure  his 
prompt  rejection. 

Then,  again,  there  are  people  who  scrupulously  discharge 
every  real  debt,  and  are  even  generous  and  liberal,  yet 
who  have  no  scruple  against  practising  some  petty  fraud 
on  the  public  revenue.  Private  interests  are  regarded, 
while  the  public  interests  are  set  at  naught.  Very  respect- 
able people  get  into  the  habit  of  dealing  with  the  State  as 
they  would  not  with  one  another.  Is  not  every  man's  duty 
to  the  commonwealth  as  high,  to  say  the  least,  as  his  duty  to 
any  one  member  of  that  commonwealth?  Is  it  really  pure 
patriotism  to  rush  with  a  crowd  at  a  trumpet's  call  in  defence 
of  your  country,  to  march  with  the  beat  of  drum  and  thrill- 
ing music,  while  a  nation  looks  on  with  sympathy  and  praise, 
and  then  to  cut  the  very  sinews  of  defence  by  cheating 
the  revenue,  adding  to  the  heavy  mountain  load  of  obliga- 
tion under  which  we  are  staggering  ?  So  it  is  with  corpo- 
rations. Many  a  man  and  woman  who  would  scorn  a  mean 
act  towards  an  individual  would  steal  a  ride  on  a  rail- 
road, and  swindle  a  corporation  without  shame  or  remorse. 
Can  you  expect  a  fountain  to  rise  higher  than  its  source? 
Will  you  find  in  the  halls  of  Congress  or  in  the  State  House 
a  higher  honesty  in  dealing  with  great  public  interests  than 
you  practise  when  dealing  yourself  with  the  Commonwealth? 
Cheat  a  corporation,  defraud  the  State,  and  boast  of  it  before 
your  boy,  or  let  him  hear  of  it ;  and  do  you  know  that  you 


LITERARY   BLUNDERS.  143 

may  be  training 'your  State  senator,  your  congressman,  to  rob 
the  public  treasury,  and  bring  just  disgrace  on  your  name, 
possibly  in  this  quick-ripening  age  before  your  own  ears  are 
past  hearing  of  it?  Would  not  that  be  a  blunder  to  repent 
of  too  late  ? 

There  are  very  curious  blunders  in  literature.  I  suppose 
Byron  sacrificed  sense  to  rhyme  when  he  wrote,  "  I  stood  in 
Venice  on  the  Bridge  of  Sighs,  a  palace  and  a  prison  on 
each  hand."  And  Allan  Cunningham,  in  the  "  Mariners* 
Song,"  blundered  as  Dibdin  never  would  have  done,  when 
he  wrote  of  the  "  Wet  sheet  and  the  flowing  sea,"  forgetting 
that  a  nautical  sheet  is  not  a  sail,  but  a  rope.  A  celebrated 
lawyer  was  once  neatly  caught  in  a  blunder  in  cross-ques- 
tioning a  sailor  in  reference  to  the  position  of  the  ship  at  the 
time  a  certain  occurence  took  place.  "  Now,  sir,  where  was 
your  ship  at  that  time?"  "Well,  sir,  we  were  just  on  the 
line."  " In  what  latitude ? "  " Eh,  what ? "  "I  ask  you  in 
what  latitude  were  you  ?  "  "  Ha,  ha !  ho,  ho  !  "  "  What  are 
you  laughing  at  ?  I  ask  you  again,  in  what  latitude  were  you 
at  the  time  ?  "  "  Now  do  you  mean  it,  or  are  you  joking  ?  " 
"  I  am  not  joking,  and  I  ask  you  to  answer  my  question." 
"  Well,  you  're  a  pretty  lawyer  not  to  know  that  there  ain't 
no  latitude  at  the  equator." 

Many  funny  blunders  occur  from  false  orthography  and 
false  construction ;  many  of  us  receive  letters  that  are 
laughable  from  this'  cause.  I  received  a  letter  from  a  young 
professor,  requesting  aid  in  starting  a  classical  school,  and 
there  were  several  blunders  in  spelling  in  the  communi- 
cation. A  speaker  said  in  commendation  of  the  judiciary 
that  "our  judges  do  not  sit  like  marble  statues  to  be  wafted 
about  by  every  idle  breeze."  I  once  heard  a  speaker  in 
England  say,  "We  will  march  forth  with  our  axes  on  our 
shoulders,  and  plough  the  mighty  deep  so  that  our  gallant 


144 


GRANDILOQUENT  PEOPLE. 


ship  shall  sail  gloriously  over  the  land."  An  English  counsel 
said  with  regard  to  the  defendant,  "Until  that  viper  put  his 
foot  among  them."  A  lawyer  said,  "My  client  lives  from 
hand  to  mouth,  like  the  birds  of  the  air."  Another  said, 
"We  shall  knock  the  hydra-head  of  faction  a  rap  on  the 
knuckles."  A  member  of  Congress  is  reported  to  have 

commenced  a  speech  with, 
"  Mr.  Speaker,  the  gener- 
ality of  mankind  in  gen- 
eral is  disposed  to  exer- 
cise oppression  on  the 
generality  of  mankind  in 
general,"  when  he  was 
1;  pulled  down  by  his  friend 
with  the  remark,  "You'd 
better  stop,  you  are  com- 
ing out  of  the  same  hole 
you  went  in  at."  I  have 
been  amused  at  the  poor 
Frenchman's  b  1  u  n  d  e  r, 
who,  not  understanding 
the  English  language,  was 
advised  by  a  friend,  in 
order  to  avoid  losing  him- 
self on  his  visit  to  the  exhibition  in  London,  to  take  down  on 
a  card  the  name  and  number  of  the  street  where  he  lodged ; 
and  by  showing  that  to  a  policeman  he  would  be  directed  to 
his  quarters.  The  poor  fellow  wandered  all  over  the  city, 
showing  to  every  policeman  a  card,  on  which  was  written, 
"No.  45,  Stick  no  Bills." 

Teachers,  especially  Sunday-school  teachers,  often  blunder 
in  putting  questions  unwarily  to  children,  obtaining  very 
ludicrous  replies.  "Now,  boys,  what  did  the  Israelites  do 


A  PUZZLED  FRENCHMAN. 


COMICALITIES  IN  THE  SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 


145 


after  they  crossed  the  Red  Sea  ?  "  One  boy  shouted  out,  "  I 
guess  they  dried  theirselves."  A  teacher  endeavoring  to 
illustrate  a  point,  said,  "  Now,  if  I  ignite  a  match,  and  care- 
fully place  it  over  the  gas-burner,  why  do  I  riot  get  a  light? 
Why  does  not  the  gas  burn  ? "  A  boy  said,  "  Because 
you  have  not  paid  your  gas  bill."  "Now,  boys,"  said  a 
teacher,  "  I  want  you  to 
be  so  still  that  you  can 
hear  a  pin  drop;  now, 
quiet  —  hush  —  listen." 
At  that  moment  a  small 
boy  squeaked  out,  "  Let 
her  drop."  All  burst  out 
laughing,  and  the  teacher 
lost  control  of  them.  A 
teacher  asked  the  scholars 
in  his  class  why  it  was 
that  if  the  angels  had 
wings  they  needed  a  lad- 
der to  ascend  and  descend 
in  Jacob's  dream,  and  re- 
ceived from  a  little  boy 
the  suggestion  that  per- 
haps they  were  moulting. 
Lord  Shaftesbury  once 
asked  a  little  girl,  "  Now, 

my  little  girl  who  made  your  vile  body  ?  "  and  received  this 
reply,  "Betsy  Jones  made  the  bod}r,  and  I  made  the  skirt 
myself."  "  What  's  a  miracle  ?  "  "  Dunno."  "  Well,  if  the 
sun  were  to  shine  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  what  would  you 
say  it  was  ?  "  "  The  moon."  "  But  if  you  were  told  it  was 
the  sun,  what  would  you  say  it  was?"  "A  lie."  "I  don't 
tell  lies ;  suppose  I  told  you  it  was  the  sun,  what  would  you 


BETSY   JONES. 


146  PRECOCIOUS  CHILDREN. 

say  then?"  "That  you  were  drunk.'"  "Now,  Jenny  Weils, 
can  you  tell  me  what  is  meant  by  a  miracle  ? "  "  Yes, 
teacher,  mother  says  if  you  don't  marry  the  new  parson,  it 
will  be  a  miracle." 

We  often  blunder  in  forgetting  the  precocity  of  children, 
and  are  often  mortified  at  their  repetition  of  some  remarl 
that  we  have  been  imprudent  enough  to  make  in  their  pres- 
ence. A  little  girl  once  asked  a  gentleman  caller,  "Who 
lives  next  door  to  you?"  "Why,  my  little  dear?"  "Oh, 
'cause  my  mother  said  you  was  next  door  to  a  fool."  A 
couple  of  visitors  asked  a  child,  "Did  you  tell  your  mamma 
we  had  called  ?  "  "  Yes."  "  And  what  did  she  say  ?  "  "  She 
said,  4  bother !  "  "  Well,  Master  Fred,  you  don't  know  who 
I  am."  "Oh,  but  I  do,  though,  you're  the  chap  ma  says 
would  be  such  a  catch  for  our  Mary." 

Young  men,  yes,  middle-aged,  old  men  and  women,  too, 
take  a  glance  back  at  the  way  you  have  come,  take  your 
soundings.  The  ship  that  takes  no  soundings  finds  no  safety. 
Can  you  not  recall  blunders  for  which  you  have  paid,  and  are 
paying,  the  penalty?  All  wrong-doing  is  a  blunder.  The 
righteous  are  wise,  the  wicked  are  foolish.  Have  you  not 
committed  blunders  that  have  caused  you  sleepless  nights 
and  sad  wakeful  hours,  bitter  regrets,  the  pangs  of  remorse, 
the  terrible  consciousness  of  transgression,  and  the  dread 
forebodings  of  the  consequences,  the  reaping  of  the  sowing? 
Will  you  not  repair  the  blunders  and  bring  peace  to  your 
soul?  You  can,  if  you  will.  How  many  to-day  look  with 
tearful  eyes,  but  with  a  glad  heart,  on  blunders  rectified. 
True,  there  was  a  hard  struggle,  but  the  victory  was  won 
by  perseverance,  and  what  a  glorious  victory! 

Young  men,  when  the  younger  son  demanded  of  his  father 
his  portion,  he  made  a  blunder.  When  he  spent  his  sub- 
stance in  riotous  living  he  still  blundered;  continuing  his 


THE   INFLUENCE  OF   CHRISTIANITY.  147 

erratic  course,  he  spent  all,  and  was  reduced  tc  living  on 
husks.  All  the  companions  of  his  free  life  had  deserted 
him,  and  he  was  left  alone  with  the  swine.  He  was  in  a 
pitiable  condition ;  and  when  conscience,  not  quite  dead, 
and  the  good  spirit  that  God  never  wholly  takes  from  us  till 
the  measure  of  iniquity  is  full,  moved  on  his  stricken  heart, 
had  he  resisted  these,  it  would  have  been  the  most  perilous 
blunder  of  all;  but  he  said  within  himself,  "I  will  arise  and 
go  to  my  father,"  a  noble  resolve,  and  his  father  met  him, 
and  fell  on  his  neck,  and  kissed  him.  The  lost  was  found, 
the  dead  was  alive.  To  depart  was  a  blunder,  the  return 
was  no  blunder ;  will  you  not  prove  it  so  ?  Some  may  say 
this  is  no  place  to  advocate  religious  truth,  but  I  ask  you,  is 
not  the  most  important  question  with  us  all,  How  is  it  be- 
tween me  and  my  Maker?  Is  it  well  with  us?  Should  we 
not  seek  the  highest  enjoyment  we  are  capable  of,  the  most 
perfect  safety,  the  most  useful  living?  When  we  conform 
our  wills  to  the  will  of  the  unchangeable,  when  our  whole 
being  is  penetrated  by  the  sacred  influence  of  Christianity, 
it  is  filled  with  a  sublimity,  that  time  or  change  cannot  im- 
pair. Our  lives  will  not  then  be  barren  of  good  results. 
This  is  the  spirit  that  sees  the  end  of  all  temptation,  the 
rectifying  of  all  blunders.  It  gives  quietness  of  heart  under 
every  solicitude,  there  is  no  darkness  or  desolation  which  it 
cannot  brighten,  no  gloom  it  cannot  dispel.  It  has  no  fear, 
no  wavering,  no  despondency.  It  is  ever  constant,  ever 
cheerful,  in  all  trials,  distresses,  and  conflicts  of  life,  it  is  a 
never-failing  helper  and  comforter,  and  in  its  hands  are  the 
keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 


CHAPTER    V. 


RETRIBUTION  —  PLAIN  TALK  AND  PLAINER  FACTS  —  REMI- 
NISCENCES OF  MY  DARK  DAYS  —  DELIRIUM  TREMENS. 

Plain  Talk  to  a  Scotch  Audience  —  Street  Sights  and  Scenes  After  Dark  — 
Wretchedness  and  Woe — "Jem,  Is  My  John  in  There?" — A  Poor 
Woman's  Plea  —  A  Cowardly  and  Brutal  Husband  —  Incident  After  Inci- 
dent — What  I  Saw  on  One  of  My  Exploring  Expeditions  — Awful  Brutality 
Caused  by  Drink  —  Scenes  I  Have  Witnessed  —  Their  Effect  Upon  Me  — 
Memories  of  My  Days  of  Dissipation  —  A  Terrible  Picture  of  Delirium 
Tremens  —  A  Victim's  Testimony  —  Peculiarities  of  the  Disease  — 
Horrible  Visions  —  Transfixed  With  Terror  —  My  Own  Experience  — 
Civility  and  Incivility  —  How  I  Was  Snubbed  in  Church  —  Reminiscences 
of  My  Dark  Days  —  A  Reckless  Act  —  The  Drunkard's  Sleep  —  Memory  a 
Curse  —  A  Forgiving  Wife  —  The  Hardest  Audience  I  Ever  Faced  —  I  Am 
Discouraged  —  The  Miner  Who  Spoke  After  Me  — His  Wonderful 
Speech  —  Tramp,  Tramp,  Tramp  —  Buckle  On  the  Armor. 

O  earnest  or  intelligent  man 
can  deny  that  drunkenness 
is  the  curse  of  the  two  great 
nations,  the   United  States 
and    Great    Britain.      And 
those  who  love  their  coun- 
try, and  are  most  desirous 
for    its    best   interests   and 
welfare,  are  among  those  who  mourn 
most  over  this  terrible  evil.      I  do 
not  mean  "  rabid  teetotalers."    Your 
judges,  statesmen,  magistrates,  law- 
yers, the  very  best  and  most  intelligent  men  in  the  commu- 
nity, are  ready  to  acknowledge  that  this  is  a  terrible  curse, 
which,  if  not  checked,  will  sap  the  very  vitals  of  this  nation. 
I  once  said  in  Scotland,  "This  is  a  land  of  Sabbaths,  a 
148 


PLAIN  TALK.  149 

land  of  Bibles,  a  land  of  gospel  privileges,  of  liberty  as  great 
as  we  enjoy  in  America,  a  land  of  martyrs  who  counted  it 
not  loss  to  shed  their  blood  on  the  moors  and  mountain  sides, 
the  land  of  Cameron,  the  land  of  Guthrie,  the  land  of  Knox, 
the  land  of  heroes,  —  of  Wallace  and  of  Bruce.  Oh,  how 
you  have  degenerated,  and  become  the  most  drunken  people 
in  the  world !  "  I  know  very  well  that  this  is  plain  talk, 
but  we  must  have  plain  talk  on  this  subject.  It  seems  to  me 
sometimes  that  there  is  a  frightful  significance  in  the  story 
that  is  told  of  a  little  Russian  boy,  who  had  such  wonderful 
powers  of  imitation.  He  would  walk  along,  perfectly  impas- 
sive, with  a  stolid  face,  and  carrying  a  pipe  in  his  mouth. 
The  onlookers  would  shout,  "  Turk !  Turk !  "  Then  he  would 
suddenly  change  his  attitude,  and  start  forward,  with  a  quick, 
light  step,  and  those  about  him  would  cry,  "  Frenchman  ! 
Frenchman ! "  But  when  he  came  before  them  reeling  and 
staggering,  they  called  out,  "  Englishman  !  Englishman  !  " 

Let  any  man  go  through  the  streets  of  our  large  cities  at 
night,  and  note  the  sights  and  scenes  that  meet  the  eye  in 
connection  with  the  drinking  system, — I  mean,  of  course,  an 
intelligent  and  sober  man.  If  you  start  with  us  on  such  a 
tour  of  exploration,  go  without  your  little  drop  of  beer  or 
your  glass  of  wine,  that  you  may  see  clearly. 

Is  it  characteristic  of  Anglo-Saxons  to  be  brutal?  Is  it 
characteristic  of  Englishmen  to  be  brutal?  Why,  there  is 
not  a  nation  on  the  face  of  this  globe  with  a  larger  or  more 
sympathetic  heart  beating  for  the  woes,  sorrows,  and  suffer- 
ings of  others  than  the  English.  All  foreign  visitors,  such  as 
Guizot  and  Montalambert,  are  struck  with  the  magnificent 
charity  of  England.  Guizot  speaks  of  it  as  a  charity  "  deep, 
comprehensive,  sincere,  and  searching;  a  charity  which,  in 
the  language  of  the  apostle,  covers  a  multitude  of  sins.'  Let 
there  be  a  cry  for  help,  through  any  disaster  upon  the  river 

10 


150 


PRACTICAL   SYMPATHY. 


or  in  the  coal  mines ;  how  quickly  comes  the  response !  After 
the  dreadful  disaster  on  the  Thames,  when  the  "Princess 
Alice  "  was  wrecked,  and  hundreds  of  lives  lost,  over  £90,000 
sterling  were  collected  in  various  places,  and  from  all  classes, 
in  sums  ranging  from  ,£100,  from  the  rich  man,  down  to  a 
penny  from  the  workingman  and  a  halfpenny  from  the  boot- 
black. Let  there  be  a  cry  for  help  from  India,  from  China, 

from  Japan,  yes,  and 
we  say  it  gratefully, 
from  the  United 
States,  and  how 
prompt  they  are  to 
reply ! 

I  was  in  Chicago 
just  after  the  great  fire, 
and  I  rode  through 
ruins  covering  an  area 
five  miles  in  length  by 
half  to  three  quarters 
of  a  mile  in  breadth. 
A  hundred  acres  an 
hour  were  consumed 
for  twenty-four  hours, 
and  the  people  sat 
mourning  in  dust  and 

smoke  and  ashes,  shedding  bitter  and  unavailing  tears.  I 
very  well  remember  when  the  despatch  came  from  England, 
by  cable,  "Draw  on  us,  in  London,  for  £10,000;"  how  it 
encouraged  and  comforted  us.  To  be  sure,  we  were  doing 
all  we  could.  The  very  workmen  were  giving  one  day's 
work,  and  one  little  fellow  stuck  up  a  notice,  "  Black  your 
boots  for  twenty  cents  to-day,  for  Chicago ; "  and  he  sent 
twenty-three  dollars  to  the  fire  fund. 


THE   LITTLE   PHILANTHROPIST. 


THE  DOINGS  OF  DRINK. 


151 


It  is  characteristic  of  Anglo-Saxons  to  be  generous,  sym- 
pathetic, manly ;  it  is  not  natural  for  them  to  be  brutal  and 
cowardly. 

Now  let  us  for  a  moment  contem- 
plate the  doings  of  drink.    If  you  look 
through   the  columns  of  the    daily 
newspapers  you  will  be  astonished  at 
the  record  of  brutality.  Take  that  col- 
umn in  the  "Al-  -j|) 
liance  Weekly              >r~ 
News,"    giving 
the    doings    of 
drink,  and  the 
catalogue  is  ap- 
palling.   A  wo- 
man went  to  a 
public      house 
door,       ragged 
and    wretched, 
her  thin  gown 
draggled    with 
dirt;  two  chil- 
dren  were    by 
her  side,  hold- 
ing  her   dress. 
She     stood    at 
the    door.      A 
man  came  out. 
"Yes,  ma'am." 


A  BRUTE  IN    HUMAN   FORM. 


She  said,  "Jem,  is  my  John  in  there?" 
"Tell  him  I  want  to  see  him."  He  came 
out,  an  Englishman.  "What  do  you  want?"  "I  want  you 
to  come  home  ;  the  fire  is  out,  we  have  no  candle,  we  have 
not  a  bit  of  bread,  and  the  children  are  crying  because  they 
are  hungry."  What  did  this  husband  and  father  do?  He 


152  COWARDICE  AND  BRA  VERY. 

struck  the  poor,  wan  creature  a  fearful  blow  in  the  mouth, 
and  sent  her  reeling  into  the  gutter ;  and,  shaking  his  silver 
in  his  pocket,  went  into  the  public-house  to  enjoy  himself 
again.  The  poor  wife  staggered  up,  wiped  the  blood  from 
her  face,  and  with  her  children  passed  down  the  street.  Is 
that  characteristic  of  an  Englishman  ?  Show  me  an  English- 
man, or  any  other  man  in  a  civilized  country,  who,  apart  from 
drink,  will  do  that,  and  I  will  show  you  a  mean,  contemptible 
coward  and  monster. 

A  man  that  will  strike  a  woman  is  a  coward ;  and  if  he  is 
drunk,  it  is  the  drink  which  makes  him  a  coward.  If  the 
man  is  sober  and  his  wife  annoys  him,  whatever  the  provoca- 
tion, however  long  her  tongue  may  be,  however  irritating 
she  is  —  and  they  can  be  awfully  irritating  sometimes  —  if 
she  makes  his  house  a  perfect  hell  for  him,  if  he  cannot 
stand  it,  let  him  act  like  a  man  and  run  away.  If  I  saw  a 
man  running  through  the  streets,  and  a  woman  after  him, 
I  should  say,  "You  are  a  brave  fellow,  go  it."  But  the 
moment  he  should  turn  round  and  strike  the  woman,  I 
would  say,  "Ah,  you  are  a  coward." 

I  could  give  you  incident  after  incident  illustrating  the 
brutality  caused  by  drink.  There  was  an  account  in  the 
newspaper  of  a  man  beating  a  woman  to  death  with  a  pair 
of  tongs,  beating  the  life  out  of  her.  He  was  sentenced  to 
one  year's  imprisonment.  Shame  that  life  should  be  so 
cheap  !  Another  case  :  A  man  went  home  drunk.  A  little 
child,  two  years  old,  was  crying.  He  said,  "Stop  your 
crying."  The  little  creature  only  knew  that  she  was  fright- 
ened and  terrified,  and  she  cried  on.  What  did  the  father 
do  ?  Took  up  that  baby,  his  own  little  girl,  two  years  old, 
and  laid  it  on  the  fire.  Can  you  show  me  a  man  in  the 
World  who  would  be  guilty  of  such  horrible  brutality  as  that, 
except  when  he  was  drunk?  A  lunatic  would  scarcely  do 


A  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCE.  153 

it.     It  is  only  the  madness  caused  by  drink  that  produces 
such  results. 

One  night  I  went  on  an  exploring  expedition  in  the 
streets,  and  met  a  forlorn  man,  bare-footed,  with  ragged 
trousers,  a  shabby  jacket  buttoned  over  his  chest,  and  an  old 
cap  on  his  head.  I  said  to  him,  "  You  are  hard  up."  "  Yes, 
I  am  as  hard  up  as  I  can  be."  "  Now,"  I  said,  "  If  I  give 
you  some  money,  will  you  spend  it  for  drink  ?  "  "  Oh,"  he 
said,  "  I  have  had  enough  of  drink."  I  said :  "  You  look  as 
if  you  had.  Now  I  am  a  teetotaler "  (by  this  time  several 
people  had  gathered  round  him,  and  I  thought  it  time  to  be 
off),  "I  am  a  teetotaler,  and  I  never  knowingly  give  a  penny 
to  be  spent  in  the  grog-shop.  I  think  there  is  enough  of  the 
man  left  in  you  to  give  me  your  word  of  honor  that  if  I  give 
you  the  money,  you  will  get  a  supper  and  a  bed  with  it." 
He  promised.  I  gave  him  the  money,  and  took  him  by  the 
hand,  dirty  and  ragged  as  he  was,  and  bade  him  God  speed. 

Those  are  the  men  we  call  brutes,  and  cast  out  of  society. 
Free  them  from  the  influence  of  drink,  and  many  of  them 
naturally  have  hearts  as  warm  as  yours,  and  feelings  as 
tender,  and  sensibilities  as  keen,  but  these  are  blunted  and 
hardened  by  their  dissipated  course  of  self-indulgence. 

Sometimes,  after  an  exploring  tour,  I  have  been  almost 
unable  to  sleep ;  I  could  not  dismiss  from  my  mind  the  sights 
and  scenes  I  have  witnessed,  the  interviews  I  have  held  with 
victims  of  this  vice ;  and  I  have  become  so  filled  with  emo- 
tion that  I  could  not  utter  the  thoughts  that  burdened  me. 
An  attempt  to  speak  would  be  choked  by  sobs  or  would  end 
in  tears ;  my  night's  rest  would  be  broken  by  dreams  of  the 
•day's  experience,  or  utterly  destroyed  by  the  consciousness 
•of  my  utter  helplessness  to  remedy  or  relieve  the  misery  and 
wretchedness  I  have  seen.  When  I  recall  some  of  those  ex- 
periences and  the  terrible  scenes  that  have  excited  my  deepest 


154  A  GLANCE  AT  THE  PAST. 

sympathy,  I  often  become  inspired  with  a  fierce  desire  to 
battle  anew  the  cause  of  so  much  degradation  and  ruin. 

All  my  sympathies  are  enlisted  for  the  intemperate  man. 
I  can  sympathize  with  him  fully,  entirely,  and  I  could  have 
said  to  that  poor,  forlorn  creature  that  night,  "I  have  been 
as  hard  up  as  you  are."  On  my  twenty-fifth  birthday  I  had 
no  hope,  no  home,  no  expectation.  I  walked  God's  beautiful 
earth  like  an  unblest  spirit  wandering  over  a  burning  desert, 
digging  deep  wells  for  water  to  quench  my  thirst,  and 
bringing  up  the  dry,  hot  sand,  with  no  human  being  to  love 
me,  no  living  thing  to  cling  to  me.  And  as  I  stand  to-day 
with  the  remembrance  of  cordiality,  courtesy,  and  kind, 
warm  greetings  from  scores  of  friends,  standing  under  the 
arc  of  the  bow,  one  base  of  which  rests  on  the  dark  days  and 
the  other,  I  trust,  on  the  sunny  slopes  of  Paradise,  I  realize 
more  and  more  the  awful  degradation  to  which  drink  brings 
a  man ;  and  I  pray  God  to  give  me  an  everlastingly  increas- 
ing capacity  to  hate  with  a  burning  hatred  any  agency  under 
heaven  that  can  debase,  degrade,  embrute,  blast,  mildew, 
scathe,  and  damn  everything  that  is  bright,  noble,  manly, 
beautiful,  and  Godlike  in  a  human  being,  as  does  the  drink 
when  the  man  becomes  addicted  to  it  and  yields  to  the 
accursed  appetite  for  it.  Therefore  my  hand  must  ever  be 
extended  to  the  intemperate  man. 

I  pity  a  drunkard :  he  is  a  suffering  man.  His  physical 
suffering  is  no  light  matter,  but  it  is  the  smallest  portion  of 
the  suffering  he  endures.  What  is  that  physical  suffering  ? 
There  is  no  human  being  that  can  understand  it,  save  him 
who  has  experienced  it,  and  even  to  him  it  is  a  mystery. 
Did  you  ever  see  a  man  in  delirium  tremens,  biting  his 
tongue  until  his  mouth  was  filled  with  blood,  the  foam  on 
his  lips,  the  big  drops  upon  his  brow  ?  Did  you  ever  hear 
him  burst  out  in  blasphemy  which  curdled  your  blood,  and 


DELIRIUM  TREMENS.  155 

see  him  beat  his  face  in  wild  fury?  Is  it  the  cramps  and 
pains  which  wrench  his  body?  Is  it  the  physical  suffering 
that  seems  to  rack  every  sinew  in  his  frame  ?  No,  it  is 
delirium  tremens,  mania  a  potu,  —  a  trembling  madness,  — 
the  most  terrible  disease  that  can  fasten  its  fangs  on  man. 
Delirium  tremens  is  a  species  of  insanity.  I  cannot  give  the 
physiology  of  it,  but  I  know  what  I  know,  and  that 's  enough 
for  me. 

It  is  a  species  of  insanity,  but  there  is  a  peculiarity  about 
it.  I  was  conversing  with  a  man  who  had  been  an  inmate 
of  a  lunatic  asylum  for  two  years,  and  I  asked  him  to  tell 
me  what  he  remembered  of  his  experience  during  that  time. 
He  remembered  nothing  distinctly,  and  was  surprised  to  find 
he  had  been  there  so  long.  When  a  man  has  suffered 
delirium  tremens,  ask  him  what  he  has  seen  and  felt,  and  he 
will  tell  you  at  once.  Each  horror  is  burnt  into  his  brain, 
stamped  upon  his  memory  in  terrible  distinctness;  and  the 
awful  visions  of  the  past  come  to  mock  him  in  his  sober 
moments.  Let  his  nerves  be  disturbed,  and  he  imagines  that 
the  premonitory  symptoms  of  the  horror  are  again  coming 
upon  him.  And  there  is  another  peculiarity.  The  man  is 
scared  by  images,  by  visions  of  creeping  things  about  and 
around  him.  Now  if  these  things  were  realities,  they  would 
not  startle  him  so  much.  Suppose  at  night  an  animal  fright- 
ful in  expression  and  proportions  was  to  enter  your  room 
with  heavy  tread,  what  would  you  do  ?  If  it  were  a  reality, 
you  would  spring  at  it,  you  would  fight  with  it,  and  gather 
fresh  courage  from  every  resounding  blow.  You  are  fighting 
a  tangible  thing.  Suppose  that  thing  comes  with  soft  foot- 
fall into  your  room,  and  you  seize  a  weapon  and  strike  a 
blow  at  it.  Your  weapon  passes  through  the  horrid  thing, 
and  you  find  it  is  a  phantom.  You  grasp  at  it,  and  grasp 
again,  and  clutch  nothing ;  still  there  is  a  mocking  look  on 


156 


A  HORRIBLE  VISION. 


its  frightful  face.  De  Quincy  has  said,  "  There  is  nothing, 
for  terror  and  consolation,  which  surpasses  the  human  face;" 
and  suppose  that  frighful  thing  presents  a  human  counte- 
nance !  You  are  not  simply  frightened,  but  transfixed  with 
horror.  The  skin  lifts  from  the  scalp  to  the  ankles;  your 
hair  stands  on  end,  for  you  know  there  is  nothing  there  to 
fight.  Men  have  been  found  dead  in  the  attitude  of  keeping 
off  some  awful  image  like  this.  I  once  knew  a  man  who 

was  tormented  with 
a  human  face  that 
glared  at  him  from 
the  wall.  He  wiped 
it  out,  it  was  there 
as  perfect  as  before. 
He  stood  back  some 
paces,  and  saw  it 
again.  Maddened  to 
desperation,  he  struck 
it  again  and  again, 
until  the  wall  was 
marked  with  blood, 
and  a  bone  of  his 
hand  was  broken,  — 
all  this  in  beating  at  a  phantom.  That  is  the  horror  of 
delirium  tremens.  I  remember  when  it  struck  me,  —  God 
forgive  me  that  I  drank  so  much  as  to  lead  to  it,  although 
not  one  half  so  much  in  quantity  as  some  who  drank  with 
me  and  who  are  moderate  drinkers  now.  The  first  glass 
with  me,  as  I  have  often  said,  was  like  fire  in  the  blood; 
the  second  was  as  concentric  rings  of  fire  in  the  brain ;  the 
third  made  me  drunk,  and,  God  help  me !  I  drank  enough  to 
bring  upon  me  that  fearful  disease.  Delirium  tremens  is  a 
terrible  disease,  and  men  are  dying  from  it  every  day.  I  saw 


TRANSFIXED   WITH   HORROR. 


LOSS  OF  RESPECTABILITY.  157 

one  man  die  from  it,  and  I  shall  never  forget  his  look ;  he 
was  but  twenty-three  years  old,  and  he  died  mad. 

Very  few  sink  so  low  as  to  lose  all  pride,  and  it  is  this 
sensitiveness  to  the  opinions  of  others,  and  this  lingering 
desire  for  the  approbation  of  others,  that  is  one  of  the  causes 
of  what  is  termed  recklessness  in  man ;  the  consciousness  of 
the  loss  of  respectability  induces  antagonism  to  those  who 
are  superior  to  him  in  the  estimation  of  society,  and  we  say 
he  is  an  impudent  fellow,  resisting  all  efforts  to  approach 
him.  It  is  delightful  to  be  respected;  it  is  pleasant,  when 
meeting  a  gentleman,  to  hear  his  "Good  morning,  sir,  pleasant 
morning;"  to  bow  to  a  lady  in  the  street,  and  to  receive  her 
salutation  in  return.  Why  I  have  known  young  men  to 
walk  two  inches  taller  directly  afterwards.  Yes,  it  is  very 
pleasant  to  be  respected. 

Now,  suppose  you  have  lost,  by  some  means  or  other, 
the  respect  of  society  and  the  esteem  of  your  friends. 
What  is  the  effect  on  you  of  losing  this  respect?  I  main- 
tain that  no  man,  whose  heart  is  not  renewed  by  the  grace 
of  God,  can  bear  the  scorn  of  his  fellows  without  paying  it 
back,  scorn  for  scorn,  contempt  for  contempt.  Retaliation  is 
human  nature.  Supposing,  then,  you  have,  deservedly  or  not, 
been  deprived  of  the  respect  of  others.  You  go  to  the  mar- 
ket or  the  exchange,  and  see  a  merchant  well  known  to  you 
turn  suddenly  round  as  you  approach  him,  and  begin  talking 
earnestly  to  a  third  person.  What  is  its  effect  ?  Why,  if 
you  have  not  the  Divine  forgiveness  taught  by  the  gospel, 
you  immediately  say,  "  Oh,  I  am  as  good  as  you  are,  any  day; 
if  you  don't  choose  to  speak  to  me,  I  shan't  speak  to  you." 
Suppose  a  lady,  getting  out  of  a  carriage,  has  her  dress 
entangled,  and  she  seems  likely  to  fall ;  you  hasten  to  offer 
assistance ;  she  declines  it  haughtily,  and  requests  you  to 
move  out  of  the  way.  The  first  thing  you  do  is  to  turn 


158  A  MORTIFYING  SNUB. 

round  to  see  if  anybody  saw  that  rebuff,  your  pride  is  morti- 
fied, and  you  pursue  your  way,  considerably  less  happy  than 
before  ;  and  perhaps  if  you  see  another  lady  in  a  similar  pre- 
dicament, you  leave  her  there  and  pass  sullenly  on,  —  the 
incivility  of  the  one  makes  you  regardless  of  the  other. 

I  never  was  considered  very  gallant.  I  have  a  profound 
respect  for  women,  and  I  believe  the  society  of  pure-minded, 
intelligent  women  does  more  to  refine  the  manners  and  purify 
the  heart  of  a  young  man  than  any  other  influence,  except 
the  gospel.  But  it  happened  that  in  the  early  part  of  my 
life  I  was  debarred  from  the  society  of  women,  and  I  feel  the 
effects  thereof  to  this  day.  One  Sunday  I  went  to  church, 
feeling,  that  day,  in  remarkably  good  humor,  both  with  my- 
self and  all  around  me.  When  the  hymn  was  given  out,  I 
found  the  page  and  timidly  offered  the  open  book  to  a  lady 
who  sat  near  me.  It  was  quite  an  effort.  She  looked  at  me 
from  head  to  foot  with  a  cold  stare,  took  another  book,  and 
turned  her  back  to  me.  The  effect  was  most  mortifying.  It 
was  cruel  that  an  act  so  well  meant  should  be  so  contemptu- 
ously rejected.  One  result  of  the  occurrence  is  that  I  have 
never  found  a  page  for  any  strange  lady  in  a  church  since, 
and  I  fear  I  may  never  muster  sufficient  courage  again  to 
risk  incurring  such  a  rebuff.  The  kindly  intention  increased 
the  mortification. 

It  is  just  so  all  the  way  down  in  different  classes  of 
society.  If  a  gentleman  is  very  unkindly  treated  in  the 
course  of  the  day's  transactions,  when  he  reaches  home  his 
son,  who  meets  him  with  a  pleasant  remark,  is  told  crustily, 
"  Don't  bother  me."  The  young  man  is  not  pleased,  and  when 
the  man-servant  speaks  to  him,  he  is  told  to  "clear  out." 
The  man,  puzzled  and  annoyed,  takes  an  opportunity  to  cuff 
his  own  boy  for  some  trifling  fault,  or  none  at  all.  The  boy 
rubs  his  head,  and  wonders  what  it  is  all  about,  and  if  he 


A  RECKLESS  ACT.  159 

chance  to  meet  just  then  with  a  favorite  dog,  he  gives  the 
animal  a  kick,  and  tells  it  to  "  get  out."  This  is  the  secret 
of  the  drunkard's  recklessness.  It  is  human  nature,  and, 
indeed,  it  seems  to  be  animal  nature,  for  the  poor  dog  slinks 
with  his  tail  between  his  legs  into  the  street  to  snarl  at,  and 
bite,  if  he  dares,  the  first  dog  he  meets. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  palliate  the  sin  of  drunkenness,  and 
say  that  the  drunkard  does  not  deserve  all  that  he  feels ;  but, 
nevertheless,  I  repeat  that  this  is  often  the  secret  of  his  reck- 
lessness. I  once  associated  in  bar-rooms  with  young  men 
who  were  greatly  my  superiors  in  life,  the  sons  of  respectable 
merchants,  or  professional  men,  and  though  they  delighted 
to  hear  me  sing  and  tell  my  stories,  they  would  not  speak  to 
me  when  they  saw  me  in  the  street.  They  were  genteel 
young  men ;  I  was  not.  They  walked  with  ladies  and  played 
the  part  of  the  accomplished  beau;  I  did  not.  One  day, 
when  going  through  the  streets,  I  saw  one  of  my  companions 
coming  from  an  opposite  direction  with  a  lady  on  his  arm. 
I  tried  to  avoid  him,  as  I  had  no  wish  to  meet  him,  and  I 
looked  for  some  means  of  getting  out  of  the  way ;  but  some- 
how I  could  not  manage  it.  The  moment  he  saw  me  he 
made  a  turn  and  crossed  the  street.  Seeing  this,  I  immedi- 
ately went  across,  and,  walking  up,  addressed  him  in  a  jovial 
tone,  " How  are  you?  We  had  rare  fun  at  4 The  Eagle '  last 
night,  but  you  were  drunk  as  a  fool.  You  are  coming  to- 
night, remember ;  don't  disappoint  us."  I  chuckled,  because 
I  felt  I  had  power  over  him ;  that,  although  despised,  I  could 
make  his  lip  as  white  as  his  cheek,  and  bring  the  hot  blood 
on  the  cheek  of  the  lady  at  her  gallant's  being  recognized  by 
a  tavern  companion  when  in  her  society. 

The  drunkard  is  reckless,  but  there  is  another  point  of 
suffering.  He  has  not  only  to  bear  the  scorn  and  contempt 
of  others,  but  he  has  to  bear  the  load  of  self-contempt 


160  THE  DRUNKARD'S  SLEEP. 

besides.  You  may  bear  the  scorn  of  your  fellows ;  but  let 
the  concentrated  scorn  of  the  community  be  pointed  with 
hissing  at  you,  and  you  can  bear  that  better  than  the  load  of 
self-contempt, — better  than  you  can  bear  the  feeling  that 
you  are  a  wretched,  miserable  thing,  from  which  your  better 
nature  shrinks  in  disgust ;  feeling  as  if  you  had  a  dead  body 
bound  to  your  living  frame  by  thongs  you  cannot  sever,  that 
body  a  mass  of  putrefaction,  and  yet  ever  with  you,  when 
you  walk  abroad,  and  when  you  lie  down  to  sleep.  Sleep ! 
The  drunkard '  never  sleeps.  The  drunkard  never  knows 
that  calm  sleep  such  as  God  gives  to  his  beloved.  Can  you 
call  that  stertorous  breathing  sleep?  Halloo  in  his  ear; 
build  a  fire  round  him  ;  he  stirs  not,  but  it  is  not  sleep.  God 
pity  the  poor  wretch,  there  is  no  sleep  there.  He  grinds  his 
teeth ;  the  oath,  the  curse,  the  word  of  blasphemy  escaping 
his  lips,  the  sweat  standing  in  large  drops  on  his  brow;  is 
that  sleep  ?  God  save  you,  young  men,  from  suffering  the 
only  sleep  the  drunkard  knows.  Sleep  is  sweet,  but  this  is 
torture.  Wherever  he  goes,  he  carries  his  load  of  self-con- 
tempt with  him. 

But  there  is  another  kind  of  misery  which  he  endures. 
We  forget  that  the  drunkard  may  be  a  man  of  like  feelings 
with  ourselves,  but  the  fact  really  is  that  those  very  faculties 
which  drunkenness  cannot  kill  are  his  curse.  Memory  to  us 
may  be  pleasant ;  you  can  remember  some  severe  trial  from 
which  you  have,  it  may  be,  come  out  with  locks  shorn,  but 
with  face  shining,  and  the  remembrance  of  the  contest  is  a 
comfort;  it  gives  you  strength  on  the  battle-field  of  life. 
But  what  has  the  drunkard  to  contemplate  ?  The  past  to 
him  is  only  as  a  point  from  which  he  has  strayed.  His 
memory  is  a  curse.  He  is  like  an  instrument  out  of  tune, 
and  yet  he  has  a  love  for  purest  harmony,  and  is  as  sensitive 
as  an  ^Eolian  harp.  He  would  fain  be  so  secluded  that  the 


POVERTY  NO  SIN. 


161 


winds  of  the  morning  should  not  blow  a  breath,  lest  they  jar 
upon  his  ear.  I  repeat,  he  is  an  instrument  all  out  of  tune ; 
and  by  his  side  stands  a  weird  sister,  a  skilful  performer,  and 
her  name  is  Memory,  and  she  strikes  every  chord  with  her 
fingers,  jarring  through  him  with  most  horrible  discords, 
making  him  mad ;  and  he  steeps  his  soul  and  senses  in  drink 
that  he  may  forget  the  past. 

The  sense  of  degradation  is  the  curse  of  the  man  who 
has  not  become  entirely  depraved  and  reckless.  He  keenly 
feels  his  humiliation.  Drink,  not 
poverty,  has  degraded  him.  No, 
there  is  no  degradation  or  sin  in 
poverty.  An  old  colored  servant 
was  asked  (although 
I  do  not  know  why 
we  should  call  them 
"colored"  people, for 
a  negro  was  once 
asked  whether  he  was 
a  colored  man,  and 
he  said,  "No,  I  was 
born  so ;  I  never  was 
colored"),  "How  do 
you  manage  to  live 
in  such  a  smoke?" 
What  did  she  say  ? 
"Why,  honey,  I'se 
thankful  to  get  any- 
thing to  make  a  smoke  of."  Another  poor  creature  said, 
when  some  one  talked  to  her  about  her  sufferings,  "  Oh, 
honey,  dat  is  nothing.  Don't  you  know  dat  is  just  in  de 
hands  of  de  Lord  ?  and  sometimes  He  whips  us  and  leaves  us 
to  see  if  we  won't  work.  But,  bless  your  heart,  honey,  just  as 


THANKFUL,  FOB  SMALL  FAVOKS. 


162  A  WIFE'S  LOVE. 

soon  as  we  cries  like  a  baby,  He  takes  us  up  and  comforts  us." 
We  meet  with  some  magnificent  experiences  of  Christian 
faith  and  trust  and  devotedness  among  the  poor,  I  think 
sometimes  more  than  among  the  rich.  Poverty  does  not 
degrade,  but  sin  does.  Everything  that  denies  the  spirit  is 
degrading,  and  there  is  no  degradation  like  that  of  drunken- 
ness, none  in  this  wide  world. 

I  know,  when  we  hear  of  wife-beating  and  all  that  kind 
of  thing,  we  say,  "  Men  are  brutes."  They  are  not  brutes. 
I  have  worked  among  them  for  forty  years,  and  have  never 
found  a  brute  among  them.  Yet  I  have  found  "  hard  cases." 
But  I  attribute  most  of  it  to  the  influence  of  drink.  A  man 
will  not  beat  his  wife  if  he  is  sober.  Oh,  is  it  not  pitiful  to 
hear  of  beaten  wives  ?  What  did  one  of  them  say  the  other 
day?  When  a  gentleman  called  to  see  her,  her  face  was 
bruised  and  her  eye  black,  and  she  said,  "  Yes,  he  did  beat 
me,  but  he  was  in  liquor  when  he  did  it.  He  was  drunk 
when  he  did  it ;  and  this  morning  he  asked  my  pardon,  and 
before  he  went  out  to  look  for  work  he  kissed  me  with  his 
famished  lips,  and  left  half  a  dozen  potatoes  for  myself  and 
the  children.  God  bless  him.  I  would  give  my  life  for  him  to- 
day." These  are  the  women  who  are  abused  and  crushed  by 
men,  some  of  them  with  hearts  naturally  as  warm  as  yours, 
and  feelings  as  tender,  but  debased  by  the  abominable  influ- 
ence of  drink. 

I  once  heard  a  speech,  and  it  is  a  much  better  one  than  I 
can  make,  and  therefore  I  will  repeat  it.  On  one  occasion 
I  spoke  to  an  audience  of  eight  hundred  of  the  hardest 
men  I  ever  came  across  in  my  life.  If  you  threw  a  joke  at 
them  it  dropped  like  a  stone  falling  into  a  bed  of  mud, 
chuck !  You  could  not  move  them  to  laughter  or  tears  or 
anything  else.  There  they  sat,  as  if  inquiring,  "What  are 
you  going  to  do  next?"  All  were  alike.  I  sat  down  very 


AN  ILLITERATE  ORATOR.  163 

much  discouraged,  and  the  chairman  said  to  me :  "  Now,  Mr. 
Gough,  if  you  have  no  objection,  I  should  like  to  ask  a  man  I 
see  in  the  audience  to  come  on  the  platform.  You  think 
these  people  have  no  enthusiasm,  but  you  will  find  that  they 
have.  You  have  not  yet  seen  them.  This  man  cannot  read 
or  write,  but  he  knows  a  great  deal  of  the  Scriptures,  and 
when  he  preaches  on  the  hillside,  on  the  Sabbath,  he  gathers 
hundreds  to  hear  him.  If  you  have  no  objection,  and  would 
like  to  hear  him,  I  will  invite  him  to  speak,  and  you  will  see 
how  he  can  move  this  audience."  I  said,  "  Objection  ?  I 
should  be  delighted  to  hear  him."  So  up  he  came,  in  fustian 
jacket  and  corduroy  trousers.  He  had  been  in  the  mine,  and 
had  evidently  given  himself  a  splash  and  a  wipe.  He  had  a 
good,  clear  eye,  and  an  honest  face.  The  first  thing  he  said 
was :  — 

"  How  d'  ye  do,  lads  ?  The  gentleman  axed  me  to  come 
on  th'  platform  b'cause  he  thowt  ye  'd  loike  to  have  a  look  at 
me.  I  hain't  no  objection  to  ony  man's  lookin'  at  me ;  ye 
may  look  at  me  if  ye  loike.  Dunnot  ye  see  how  fat  I  'm 
agettin'  ?  I  doan't  drink  no  beer,  neither.  Look  at  me.  I 
bean't  ashamed.  My  elbows  bean't  stickin'  out  o'  my  jacket, 
and  my  toes  bean't  stickin'  out  o'  my  boots.  I  've  got  a 
clean  shirt  on,  and  I  gets  one  once  a  weeak ;  an'  by  th'  look 
o'  some  o'  you,  ye  doan't  get  one  once  a  month.  Ye  may 
look  at  me  if  ye  loike.  I  bean't  ashamed  if  ye  do.  I  say, 
lads,  I  've  made  a  change.  I  've  changed  beer  fur  bread,  an' 
brandy  fur  beef,  an'  I've  changed  gin  fur  good  clothes. 
They  're  pretty  good  uns,  though  they  bean't  very  stylish-loike. 
And  I  've  changed  rum  fur  a  happy  wife  an'  a  comfortable 
'ome.  My  wife  doan't  lay  no  longer  on  a  bundle  o'  rotten 
rags,  an'  call 't  a  bed;  an'  my  childer  doan't  run  no  longer  i' 
the  streets,  learnin'  devil's  tricks ;  they  goas  to  school,  an'  I 
pays  a  penny  a  week  fur  each  on  'em,  and  they're  goin' 


164 


THE  MINER'S  SPEECH. 


to  be  better  educated  than  their  dad  ever  was.  I  've  made 
a  change.  Ye  remember  th'  owd  song  we  used  to  sing :  — 

4  When  a  man  buys  beef,  he  buys  bones ; 
When  a  man  buys  plums,  he  buys  stones; 
When  a  man  buys  heggs,  he  buys  shells ; 
When  a  man  buys  drink,  he  buys  nothing  else.' 

Ain't  it  true  ?  Ay,  lads,  that 's  all  true,  an'  every  one  o'  you 
knows  it ; "  and  they  began  to  shout,  "  Hurrah,  hurrah !  " 
Every  one  of  them. 


"  THE  DEN   I  WAS  BURROWIN'    IN. 


"  I  doan't  want  you  to  'oiler.  I  did  n't  coom  'ere  for  any 
'ollering.  I  '11  tell  ye  what  I  did  th'  fust  thing  when  I  'd  put 
my  name  on  th'  temperance  pledge.  I  went  whoam  and 
towd  my  missus,  an'  that  brightened  her  up  a  bit.  Then  I 
took  my  childer  out  o'  th'  gutter.  Then  I  got  out  o'  th' 
den  I  was  burrowin'  in,  and  took  a  'ouse,  a  two-roomed  'ouse. 


DICK'S  STORY. 


165 


I  am  a  '  'ousekeeper '  now,  I  am.  And  then  I  thowt  I 
must  cut  a  dash  myself,  an1  I  did,  but  I'll  never  do  it 
again.  I  got  a  black  pair  o'  trousers,  a  canary-colored 
waistcoat,  an'  jacket  to  match,  an'  a  foine  big  necktie 
wi'  dots  on  it,  an'  then  I  got  a  stiff  'at,  an'  I'll  be 
blowed  if  't  warn't  a  stiff  un ;  an'  then  I  strutted  up  an' 
down,  an'  when  the  people  that  knowed  me  afore  seed 
me,  blowed  if  they  warn't 
all  putrified,  every  one  on 
'em."  Again  the  audience 
shouted. 

"  Now,  look  'ere,  I  doan't 
want  none  o'  your  'ollering ; 
I  want  to  make  this  'ere 
speech  what  some  of  the 
learned  gentlemen  call  a  prac- 
ticable speech.  There  's  Dick 
ower  there.  Dick  bobbed 
his  head  down  when  I  said, 
4  Dick.'  Everybody  knows 
Dick.  He  'd  share  his  last 
crust  wi'  a  brother  pitman, 
and  lend  his  tools  to  his 
brother  workman  if  he 
know'd  he  'd  pawn  'em  next  day.  Dick  would  lie  on  his 
back  sixteen  hours  pickin'  coal,  and  spend  t'  other  eight 
takkin'  keer  o'  a  sick  child  ut  belonged  to  a  neighbor,  Dick 
would.  But  what  did  Dick  bob  his  head  down  fur  when  I 
said  4  Dick  ?  '  Dick,  my  lad,  you  knows  me  and  I  knows  you. 
I  want  to  ax  you  a  question.  D'  ye  remember  that  bitter 
November  night  when  th'  wind  was  drivin'  the  sleet  through 
the  thick  cloas  of  a  man,  an'  you  sent  your  little  lass 
out,  an'  she  had  but  one  garment  on  her,  an'  that  was  acling- 
11 


CUTTING    A   DASH. 


166 


AN  APPEAL  TO  TOM. 


in'  to  her  bare  blue  legs  wi'  th'  wet,  and  you  sent  her  wi' 
a  blackin'-bottle,  an'  she  could  hardly  stand  on  her  bare 
toes  an'  put  th'  blackin'-bottle  on  th'  counter,  an'  you  sent 
her  wi'  a  silver  sixpence  for  gin ;  an'  there  was  your  'alf- 
starved  wife  lyin'  on  th'  floor,  wi'  a  new-born  babe  wailin'  at 
her  side.  Ah,  Dick,  that  was  bad.  I  say,  lads,  was  't  Dick 
as  turned  th'  lass  out  that  night  ?  No,  't  was  th'  cursed 
drink  did  that.  Down  wi'  th'  drink,  an'  up  wi'  th'  man! 
That 's  my  doctrine. 

"An'  there's  Tom 
there,  just  such  another 
as  Dick.  Tom  bobbed 
his  head  down  when  I 
said  4  Tom.'  Ah,  every- 
body knows  him.  I 
want  to  ax  you  a  ques- 
tion, Tom.  What  did 
you  promise-  the  lass 
when  you  took  her  from 
her  mother's  'ome? 
Did  n't  you  promise  to 
love  her,  an'  cherish  her, 
an'  protect  her?  Have  you  done  it,  Tom?  Who  gied  her 
th'  black  eye  three  weeks  since  ?  Who  thrust  her  down 
stairs  an'  tore  her  flesh  from  her  wrist  to  her  elber?  An' 
she  covered  the  place  ower  wi'  her  apron,  an'  towd  folks 
lies  to  shield  you,  an'  said  she  tumbled.  Ah,  that 's  bad, 
lads.  Was  't  Tom  as  struck  a  woman?  Was  't  Tom  as 
threw  his  wife  down  th'  stairs  ?  No,  '£  was  th'  cursed  drink 
as  did  it.  Down  with  th'  drink,  an'  up  wi'  the  man  !  That 's 
my  doctrine. 

"I  say',  lads,  do  ye  want  to  smooth  th'  wrinkles  out  o' 
your  wife's  face  like  ye  smooth  out  th'  wrinkles  in  a  sheet 


DRIVEN    OUT   INTO    THE    STORM. 


A  KEMARKABLE  SCENE.  169 

wi'  a  smoothing-iron  ?  I  have.  Put  your  name  on  the 
pledge ;  that  '11  do  it.  I  say,  Dick !  Dick  is  coming,  Dick 
is  coming  !  Tom,  Tom,  look  here  !  Ah,  that 's  right,  Tom. 
Now,  lads,  follow  a  good  example." 

And  fifty-eight  men  came  tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  on  the 
platform.  They  seized  the  pen  as  if  it  were  a  pen  of  iron, 
and  wrote  as  if  they  were  graving  their  names  into  stone. 
That  man  did  more  work  in  ten  minutes  than  I  could  do  in 
ten  hours,  because  his  discourse  was  adapted  to  the  character 
of  his  audience. 

To  the  drunkard  who  has  any  desire  to  reform,  I  give  my 
hand.  I  say  to  him,  "  My  brother,  you  can  fight  this  battle. 
You  CAN  DO  IT."  Some  people  say,  "I  can't."  So  said  a 
poor  creature  when  he  took  up  his  pen  and  tried  to  write, 
dropped  it  again,  and  turned  away.  He  took  it  up  again  and 
said,  "If  anybody  will  take  the  next  six  weeks  from  me,  I  will 
put  my  name  down."  Yes,  that  is  it,  my  man.  You  are  afraid 
of  the  next  six  weeks.  We  will  stand  by  you  for  the  next 
six  weeks.  It  is  a  hard  struggle,  I  know.  Oh,  it  is  terrible ! 
Yet  I  say  to  you,  my  friend  and  brother,  the  longer  you  fight 
the  surer  is  the  victory.  The  longer  you  fight  the  less 
power  your  enemy  has  over  you.  He  is  weakened  by  every 
struggle,  and  you  are  the  stronger.  Therefore,  it  is  a  sure 
thing.  Then,  buckle  on  the  armor,  and  fight,  for  victory  is 
certain. 


CHAPTER   VI. 


"AS   A   MEDICINE    — A  FAIR  NAME  FOR  A  FOUL  THING  —  A 
PRECIOUS   SCOUNDREL   WITH  A  FAIR   FACE. 

Fault  Finders  —  A  Tippling  LL.D. — A  Cheese  Argument  —  Scene  at  a 
Dinner  Party  —  Drink  as  a  Medicine  —  Doctors  Who  Prescribe  Liquor  — 
A  Good  Deal  and  Often  —  Effects  of  Alcohol  on  the  Nervous  System  — 
Testimony  of  Two  Thousand  Physicians  — A  Distinguished  Physician's 
Opinion  —  Diseases  Produced  by  Alcohol  —  Personal  Experience  of  an 
Eminent  Surgeon  —  My  Own  Experience  —  An  Exceedingly  Suspicious 
Mixture  —  A  Compound  Fearfully  and  Wonderfully  Made  —  Extraordi- 
nary Prescriptions  —  Mrs.  McCarthy's  "Noggin  of  Rum" — How  the 
Upholsterer  Got  Even  with  the  Doctor  —  A  Good  Story  —  Anecdote  of 
Rev.  Mr.  Reid  —  "  Ask  My  Doctor  ?  "  —  Sticking  to  the  Same  Remedy  for 
Seven  Years  — An  Offer  to  Loan  a  Thousand  Dollars  —  Chasing  a 
Bubble  — My  Visit  to  Werner's  Room  — A  Delightful  Afternoon  — A 
Musical  Feast. 

O  moderate  drinkers  we  ap- 
peal for  help.  We  do  not 
abuse  you.  We  do  not  tell 
you  that  you  are  worse  than 
the  drunkard,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing;  and  we  do 
not  desire  to  deprive  you  of 
a  gratification  with  no  reason  but 
our  own  whim.  But  we  can  ask  you 
to  give  it  up,  making  no  demand 
upon  you  except  in  the  name  of  our 
common  humanity.  But  some  per- 
sons find  fault  with  us,  and  tell  us  we  are  unjust  in  endeav- 
oring to  deprive  moderate  drinkers  of  that  which  is  a  lawful 
gratification. 

A  lady  friend  of  mine,  who  never  offers  wine,  gave  a  dinner- 
170 


RESULTS   OF   EATIXG  CHEESE.  17  \ 

party  at  which  were  some  literary  gentlemen.  One  LL.D. 
said  to  her,  "  Mrs.  So-and-so,  I  think  you  do  me,  and  such  as 
I  am,  an  injustice."  "  How  so  ?  "  "  Well,  you  know  I  drink 
a  glass  of  wine  at  my  dinner.  I  am  accustomed  to  it.  I 
don't  think  it  ever  hurt  me.  It  does  me  good.  I  am  fond  of 
it.  You  say  to  me  when  I  come  to  your  house,  4  Now,  doctor, 
I  shall  give  you  no  wine,  because  a  bad  use  is  made  of  it  by 
some,  and  here  is  a  person  who,  if  he  drinks  it,  injures  him- 
self.1 You  take  from  me  an  innocent  gratification,  at  the  least, 
and  that  which  I  am  used  to,  and  which  I  miss  if  I  do  not 
obtain,  because  somebody  makes  a  fool  of  himself;  and  be- 
cause somebody  can't  drink  without  being  injured,  you  say  I 
shall  have  none.  Now  is  that  fair  ?  By-and-by  you  will  take 
from  us  all  our  little  luxuries,  and  there  is  no  knowing  where 
these  encroachments  will  end.  Now  I  like  a  little  bit  of 
cheese  after  my  dinner;  I  think  it  promotes  digestion.  Now 
suppose  you  say,  4  Doctor,  here  is  a  man  who  cannot  eat  cheese 
with  impunity ;  I  shall  give  you  no  cheese ;  I  will  not  give  a 
particle  of  cheese  to  my  guests,  because  some  people  eat 
cheese  to  their  detriment.'  Is  that  fair?" 

I  ask  any  intelligent  person  if  that  is  a  fair  way  of  putting 
it  ?  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  man  on  the  scaffold,  about  to  be 
hung,  saying  to  those  who  came  to  witness  his  execution, 
"  Take  warning  by  me,  and  never  eat  cheese  ?  "  Did  you  ever 
hear  of  a  man  murdering  his  wife,  and  giving  as  his  excuse 
that  he  had  been  eating  cheese  ?  Was  there  ever  a  row  in 
the  streets,  ribs  broken,  and  blood  shed,  which  the  news- 
papers next  morning  stated  was  because  these  men  had 
been  eating  cheese  ?  Did  you  ever  hear  a  mother  mourn  over 
the  dead  body  of  her  child,  crying,  "  Would  I  had  died  for 
thee,  O,  my  son  !  I  have  no  hope  in  his  death  :  he  died  from 
eating  cheese  ?  "  All  I  have  to  say  is  just  this  :  Prove  to  me 
that  the  use  of  cheese  produces  the  same  results  as  does  the 


172 


TAKING  IT   "AS  A  MEDICINE.' 


use  of  drink,  and,  by  the  grace  of  God,  I  will  fight  the  cheese 
as  heartily  as  I  do  the  drink.  I  consider  it  the  height  of  stu- 
pidity and  nonsense  to  bring  such  an  argument  as  that  against 
us  while  we  are  advocating  the  disuse  of  intoxicating  liquor 
as  a  beverage.  We  do  not  seek  to  take  it  away  from  you  by 
force ;  we  want  you  to  be  made  so  far  acquainted  with  the 

evils  of  drink 
that,  with  your 
heart  and  soul, 
and  in  the  exer- 
cise of  large- 
hearted,  self-de- 
nying benevo- 
lence, you  will 
give  it  up  for  the 
sake  of  others. 
That  is  the  grand 
principle  on 
which  we  base  our  appeal, 
and  it  is  the  highest  prin- 
ciple. 

Some  say,  however,  "You 
will  certainly  let  us  have 
a  little  as  a  medicine."  Yes, 
certainly  we  will ;  we  do 
not  condemn  it  as  a  medi- 
cine ;  that  is,  when  men  really  take  it  as  such.  I  was  once 
at  a  dinner-party  when  a  gentleman  at  table,  holding  a  glass 
in  his  hand,  said  to  a  lady  present,  "  I  assure  your  ladyship  I  am 
personally  an  abstainer,  and  am  opposed  "  — and  he  swallowed 
the  wine  —  "to  the  drinking  usages  of  society;  but  I  take 
wine  by  the  prescription  of  my  medical  man."  I  thought  I 
would  see  how  much  medicine  he  took,  and  before  the  meat 


I  TAKE  IT   "AS  A  MEDICINE." 


HYPOCRITICAL  DRINKERS.  173 

was  brought  on  he  drank  three  glasses  of  sherry.  I  did  not 
wonder,  then,  that  people  lay  in  their  medicine  a  pipe  at  a 
time,  or  by  so  many  dozen  bottles.  I  believe  a  great  deal  of 
this  medicine-taking  is  rank,  sheer  hypocrisy.  It  may  not  be 
in  your  case,  but  I  believe  it  is  in  the  majority  of  cases.  A 
physician  once  told  me  that  some  men,  whose  consciences 
condemn  them  for  sustaining  the  drinking  customs  of  society, 
say  to  their  physician,  "I  feel  a  little  torpidity  in  my  system, 
I  think  my  digestive  organs  are  not  exactly  right,  and  I 
thought  I  would  ask  if  a  glass  or  two  of  wine  would  not, 
perhaps,  promote  digestion  ?  "  "  Well,  I  don't  know  but  you 
might  take  a  little,  carefully."  "  Thank  you ;  "  and  away  he 
goes,  drinking  several  times  each  day,  saying,  "I  take  my 
wine  by  the  prescription  of  my  physician."  Some  almost 
force  the  doctor  to  say  that  they  may  take  it. 

If  the  medical  men,  however,  were  all  like  a  medical  man 
in  Birmingham,  there  would  be  less  taking  it  as  a  medicine. 
A  lady  afflicted  with  spasms  had  used  intoxicating  liquor  as 
a  remedy,  by  her  doctor's  prescription.  Having  changed  her 
physician,  something  else  was  prescribed  by  the  new  one. 
"  Doctor,"  she  said,  "  why  have  you  changed  my  medicine  ?  " 
"I  never,"  he  replied,  "prescribe  intoxicating  liquor  for  a 
sick  person  if  I  can  help  it,  for  I  have  known  fearful  cases  of 
an  appetite  for  it  being  formed  in  a  weak  state  of  health  ;  and 
if  I  do  prescribe  stimulants,  I  make  them  so  nauseous  that  my 
patients  don't  like  them,  and  they  don't  urge  me  again  to 
prescribe  the  tonic."  I  do  not  run  a  tilt  against  the  physi- 
cians ;  but  when  I  find  that  two  thousand  physicians  —  among 
them  Sir  Benjamin  Brodie,  Sir  James  Clark,  and  others  — 
years  ago  put  their  names  to  a  testimonial  that  any  individual 
may  at  once,  or  by  degrees,  break  off  the  use  of  intoxicating 
liquors  as  a  beverage,  with  no  detriment  to  his  health,  and 
that  perfect  health  is  compatible  with  entire  abstinence  from 


174  TESTIMONY   FROM  HIGH  SOURCES. 

stimulating  drink  as  a  beverage,  I  am  surprised  to  find  so 
many  persons  taking  it  "by  the  prescription  of  their  phy- 
sician." 

Sir  William  Gull,  before  the  parliamentary  commission  on 
intemperance,  in  reference  to  the  treatment  of  fever  without 
alcohol,  states:  "I  cured  many  cases  of  typhus  in  young  sub- 
jects under  twenty-five  years  of  age,  with  camomile  tea  and 
with  no  other  remedy  but  light  diet."  He  further  says 
that,  "  the  error  prevalent  is  that  alcohol  cures  the  disease, 
whereas  the  disease  runs  its  physiological  course  irrespective 
of  the  alcohol.  The  advantage  of  alcohol  is,  if  it  has  an 
advantage,  its  effect  upon  the  nervous  system  for  the  time 
being,  rendering  the  patient  more  indifferent  to  the  processes 
going  on.  I  am  disposed  also  to  believe,  although  I  think 
we  could  not  do  without  alcohol  as  a  drug,  that  it  is  still 
over-prescribed." 

Again  he  says:  "Instead  of  flying  to  alcohol,  as  many 
people  do  when  they  are  exhausted,  they  might  very  well 
drink  water,  or  they  might  very  well  take  food,  and  would 
be  very  much  better  without  the  alcohol.  If  I  am  fatigued 
with  overwork  personally,  my  food  is  very  simple.  I  eat  the 
raisins  instead  of  taking  the  wine.  I  have  had  very  large 
experience  in  that  practice  for  thirty  years.  It  is  my  own 
personal  experience,  and  I  have  recommended  it  to  my  per- 
sonal friends.  It  is  a  limited  experience,  but  I  believe  that 
it  is  a  very  good  and  true  experience." 

Again  (I  quote  from  the  blue  book)  :  "  All  alcohol,  and 
all  things  of  an  alcoholic  nature,  injure  the  nerve  tissues  pro 
temper e,  if  not  altogether ;  you  may  quicken  the  operations, 
but  you  do  not  improve  them.  Therefore,  the  constant  use 
of  alcohol,  even  in  a  moderate  measure,  may  injure  the  nerve 
tissues  and  be  deleterious  to  health.  I  should  say  that  one 
of  the  commonest  things  in  our  society  is  that  people  are 


A  DISTINGUISHED  SURGEON'S  EXPERIENCE.  175 

injured  by  drink  without  being  drunkards.  It  goes  on  so 
quietly  that  it  is  very  difficult  to  observe,  even.  I  know 
alcohol  is  a  most  deleterious  poison.  I  would  like  to  say  that 
a  very  large  number  of  people  in  society  are  dying  day  by 
day,  poisoned  by  alcohol,  but  not  supposed  to  be  poisoned 
by  it." 

Of  diseases  produced  by  alcohol,  he  states:  "There  is 
disease  of  the  liver,  which  is  of  very  common  occurrence,  and 
then  from  disease  of  the  liver  we  get  disordered  conditions 
of  the  blood,  and  consequent  upon  that  we  get  diseased 
kidneys,  we  get  a  diseased  nervous  system,  we  get  gout,  and 
we  get  diseased  heart;  I  hardly  know  any  more  potent  cause 
of  disease  than  alcohol,  leaving  out  of  view  the  fact  that  it  is 
a  frequent  source  of  crime  of  all  descriptions." 

Dr.  Benjamin  West  Richardson,  F.  R.  S.,  stated  a  fact 
before  the  same  committee,  in  reference  to  the  fallacy  of 
using  alcoholic  stimulants  on  extraordinary  occasions,  to  the 
following  effect  (I  quote  from  the  blue  book)  :  — 

"  On  Monday  last,  I  was  drawn  by  a  big  dog  under  a  cab, 
and  received  a  wound  from  three  to  four  inches  long  in  my 
scalp,  down  to  the  skull,  and  lost  a  great  number  of  ounces 
of  blood.  Dr.  Symes  Thompson  came  to  my  assistance,  and 
took  me  from  Cumberland  Place  in  a  cab  home  to  Hinde 
Street;  I,  in  the  meanwhile,  holding  the  wound  to  prevent 
further  bleeding.  I  was  very  greatly  exhausted  from  the 
loss  of  blood  and  the  shock  and  the  pain  which  afterward 
followed  in  stitching  up  the  wound  ;  but  I  never  took  a  drop 
of  alcohol  in  any  shape  or  way,  and  in  two  hours  I  was  quite 
ready  to  resume  work.  I  have  had  no  fever.  I  have  had  no 
inflammation.  I  have  slept  well,  and  have  continued  my 
work  up  to  this  time,  with  the  only  difference  that  I  have  not 
been  out  at  night  to  a  dinner  party  or  a  meeting.  Ten  years 
ago,  I  should  have  thought  it  would  have  been  necessary  to 


176  CHAMPAGNE  FOR  BALD  HEADS. 

have  taken  three  or  four  ounces  of  alcohol,  and  I  am  sure  I 
should  have  taken  it ;  the  result  would  probably  have  been  an 
increased  action  of  the  heart  from  twelve  thousand  to  sixteen 
thousand  beats  in  the  twelve  hours,  and  therefore  a  certain 
amount  of  inflammation  of  the  wound,  the  necessity  the  next 
morning  of  taking  a  black  draught  and  a  pill,  and  afterward, 
perhaps,  some  saline,  and  at  least  two  or  three  days'  rest. 
Less  than  ten  years  ago  I  should  have  thought  that  a  neces- 
sary part  of  the  treatment." 

A  gentleman  said  to  me,  "  Ah,  if  you  go  on  the  Continent 
you  ought,  at  your  age,  to  take  a  little  wine — the  water  is 
doubtful."  They  told  me  so  when  I  went  to  California  ;  and 
they  told  me  so  when  I  went  to  Montreal.  I  said,  "  I  don't 
think  I  need  it."  "  But  I  think  you  do."  "  Well,  look  at 
me.  I  am  sixty-one  years  of  age.  I  have  delivered  seven 
thousand  eight  hundred  addresses  on  the  subject  of  temper- 
ance, and  on  other  topics.  I  have  travelled  four  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  miles,  and  I  have  not  been  in  bed  a 
whole  day  from  illness  since  1846."  That  is  how  I  have 
managed  on  cold  water  without  the  aid  of  stimulants.  I 
think  there  are  some  doctors  who  prescribe  wine  because 
they  like  to  take  a  little  medicine  with  their  patients  when 
they  call.  I  think  some  prescribe  it  because  they  believe  it 
to  be  necessary,  and  I  rather  guess  that  the  physician  who 
prescribed  it  for  a  very  dear  friend  of  mine  was  one  of  that 
sort.  When  my  friend  was  in  London,  he  consulted  a 
physician,  who  said,  "You  ought  to  take  a  little  champagne." 
"Why?"  he  asked.  "Well,  you  are  very  tall,  and  you  are 
very  bald,  and  the  top  of  your  head  is  necessarily  cold,  and 
you  need  some  stimulants  to  send  the  blood  over  the  top  of 
your  head!"  I  suppose  he  believed  it  to  be  necessary. 
Some  prescribe  it  because  they  do  not  know  anything 
about  it. 


A  SUSPICIOUS  BLACK  BOTTLE. 


177 


I  heard  of  a  man  who  prescribed  his  own  medicines  and 
furnished  his  own  prescriptions.  He  was  a  very  stingy  man; 
and  when  a  small  quantity  of  any  of  his  mixtures  was  left, 
he  put  it  in  a  black  bottle.  It  soon  contained  a  little  ipecac- 
uanha, rhubarb,  salts  and  senna,  antimony,  mercury,  —  a 
little  of  everything  he  had  prescribed  for  years.  Some  one 
said  to  him,  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  stuff?" 
44 Use  it."  "How?" 
"  When  I  get  hold 
of  a  fellow  who  has 
a  complication  of 
disorders  I  don't 
understand,  I  take 
the  black  bottle, 
shake  it  up,  and 
give  him  a  dose  out 
of  it."  Medical  men 
prescribe  a  stimu- 
lant because  they 
do  not  know  any 
better.  It  is  an 
easy  medicine  for 
them  to  prescribe, 
and  for  their  pa- 
tients to  take.  I  am  not  going  to  deal  with  the  medical 
aspect  of  this  question.  There  are  some  learned  and  noble 
men  who  are  grappling  with  that,  and  they  can  do  it  better 
than  I,  because  they  do  it  understandingly. 

I  have  been  very  busy  lately  in  gathering  up  physicians' 
prescriptions,  and  the  other  day  I  had  quite  a  bundle  sent  to 
me.  Among  others  I  have  a  prescription  signed  by  the 
surgeon  of  a  certain  hospital,  as  the  diet  for  an  individual : 
"  Two  glasses  of  brandy  and  water,  four  glasses  of  port  wine, 


OLD   MIXEM'S    CUKE    AL.L. 


178         GETTING  EVEN  WITH  THE  DOCTOR. 

one  bottle  of  porter,  and  one  pint  of  milk."  And  what  do 
you  suppose  ails  the  patient  ?  He  has  a  sprained  ankle  ! 
Another  is  from  a  surgeon  to  a  large  iron  foundry,  one  of  the 
proprietors  of  which  gave  it  to  me  :  "  Give  Mrs.  McCarthy  a 
noggin  of  rum."  A  gentleman  who  took  the  place  of  a 
surgeon  in  another  hospital,  told  me  that  there  was  pre- 
scribed for  one  man  eighty-six  gallons  of  ale  in  six  months, 
and  the  man's  disorder  was  an  ulcer  on  the  leg.  The  ulcer 
had  a  rim  round  it  nearly  half  an  inch  deep ;  but  the  beer 
was  discontinued,  and  the  ulcer  soon  afterwards  came  up 
even  with  the  surface. 

I  do  not  say  that  medical  men  are  always  dishonest,  but  let 
me  give  you  a  case  that  occurred.  An  upholsterer  in  a  cer- 
tain town  constantly  suffered  from  serious  bilious  attacks; 
and  he  paid  his  doctor  a  pretty  round  bill  every  year,  besides 
sending  him  all  the  furniture  he  wanted.  At  last  the  up- 
holsterer signed  the  pledge,  and  at  the  next  settling  the  bills 
were  about  square ;  but  at  the  end  of  the  next  year  the  pa- 
tient had  not  had  a  single  visit,  nor  taken  a  single  dose  of 
medicine,  so  that  the  doctor  had  to  pay  him  the  whole  bill. 
The  doctor  then  said,  "  You  seem  to  have  got  over  your 
bilious  attacks."  "  Oh,  yes,  pretty  well ;  I  am  a  teetotaler." 
"A  teetotaler,  how  long?"  "Since  the  1st  of  January  last." 
"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  the  doctor,  "  you  have  taken  a  new 
lease  of  your  life ;  I  shall  never  be  called  upon  to  attend  you 
for  bilious  attacks  again,  I  assure  you."  Now,  why  was  that 
not  said  before  ?  And  why  should  he  go  on  doctoring  his 
patient  year  after  year,  and  withhold  from  him  the  advice 
which  he  most  needed? 

I  heard  the  following  anecdote  from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Reid. 
Two  gentlemen  from  Scotland,  when  in  America,  visited  Dr. 
Paton.  While  in  his  house,  as  he  was  a  strict  teetotaler, 
they  adopted  the  principle,  and  it  was  right  in  them  to  do  so. 


A  WELL-TRIED   REMEDY.  179 

Some  time  after,  when  Dr.  Paton  was  in  Scotland,  he  dined 
with  one  of  them,  and  observed  that  wine  was  on  the  table. 

"What,"  said  he,  addressing  his  friend,  "I  thought  you 
were  an  abstainer." 

"  Oh,  I  use  it  as  a  medicine." 

"Do  you  require  it  for  your  health?" 

"  You  must  ask  my  doctor  there,"  replied  his  friend,  point- 
ing to  a  gentleman  who  was  at  the  other  end  of  the  table. 

"  Is  that  true,  sir  ?  "  said  Dr.  Paton,  looking  inquisitively 
at  the  person  referred  to. 

"Yes,  sir,  quite  true  ;  necessary  for  him." 

"How  long  have  you  been  prescribing  it?" 

"Seven  years." 

"  Is  it  customary,"  continued  the  Doctor,  "  for  physicians 
to  continue  prescribing  the  same  medicine  when  no  cure  is 
being  effected?  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  never  thought  about  it." 

There  is  not  a  physician  who,  if  asked  to  give  his  honest 
answer  to  the  question,  would  not  admit  that  alcohol,  used 
in  a  healthy  state  of  the  body,  produces  disease. 

"  Ah,  but,"  say  some,  "  there  is  enjoyment  and  gratifica- 
tion in  it."  So  there  is ;  I  have  experienced  that  myself.  I 
have  felt  it  thrilling  to  the  tips  of  my  fingers  with  a  new, 
strange,  delightfully  exhilarating  sensation.  I  have  been  in 
a  club-room  when  the  wine  has  passed  from  one  to  the  other, 
and  we  have  felt  ourselves  great  men  presently,  with  plenty 
of  money  in  our  pockets  when  we  really  had  hardly  enough 
to  pay  our  board-bill. 

One  man  said  to  another,  "Look  here,  if  you  want  to 
borrow  a  thousand  dollars  in  your  business,  come  down  to 
my  office  and  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  lend  it  you."  The 
man  thought  he  could  use  a  thousand  dollars  admirably,  and 
he  went  to  his  friend  the  next  morning  and  said,  "  You  told 


180 


GRATUITOUS  ADVICE. 


me  if  I  came  to  your  office,  you  could  let  me  have  a  thousand 
dollars  to  use  in  my  business."  "  Did  I  ?  "  "  Yes."  "  Well, 
I  have  n't  got  it  now,  but  I  may  have  it  by  night."  I  heard 
once  of  a  man  who,  in  a  wretched,  dilapidated  condition,  was 
looking  at  the  launch  of  a  ship.  Some  of  the  owners  held  a 
consultation, 
and  thought 
the  ship  had 
better  r  e- 
main  on  the 
stocks  two  or 
three  days 
longer.  One 
of  them  said, 
"I  should 
be  unwilling 
to  take  the 
responsibility 
of  it."  This 
poor,  miser- 
able fellow 
came  np, 
with  his 
trousers  shin- 
ing with  old  '  ^ 
age,  boots 
broken,  and 

hat  battered,  and  said :  "  Let  her  slide,  I  will  take  the  respon- 
sibility." Yes,  there  is  a  gratification,  an  exhilaration,  an 
excitement  produced  by  the  drink.  Any  mistakes  in  the 
cabinet,  send  for  one  of  us;  we  will  reconcile  all  ques- 
tions to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties,  foreign  nations  in- 
cluded. When  we  were  half  drunk,  beautiful  visions  passed 


LET   HER   SLIDE." 


CHASING  A  BUBBLE. 

before  us,  and  we  only  wanted  the  canvas  and  the  pencil 
to  immortalize  ourselves.  There  is  a  gratification  in  drink- 
ing. What  is  it?  It  is  the  gratification  of  intoxication. 

Men  talk  about  enjoyment  in  drinking !  There  is  really 
none.  It  is  merely  momentary  and  imaginary.  No  man 
ever  received  satisfaction  enough  in  wicked  pursuits  to  say, 
"  Ah,  now  I  am  happy ! "  It  is  gone  from  him.  All  the 
enjoyments  that  can  be  obtained  in  this  world,  apart  from 
the  enjoyments  God  has  sanctioned,  lead  to  destruction.  It 
is  as  if  a  man  should  start  in  a  chase  after  a  bubble,  attracted 
by  its  bright  and  gorgeous  hues.  It  leads  him  through  vine- 
yards, under  trellised  vines  with  grapes  hanging  in  all  their 
purpled  glory ;  it  leads  him  past  sparkling  fountains,  amid 
the  music  of  singing  birds ;  it  leads  him  through  orchards 
hanging  thick  with  golden  fruit.  He  laughs  and  dances.  It 
is  a  merry  chase.  By  and  by  that  excitement  becomes  in- 
tense, that  intensity  becomes  a  passion,  that  passion  a  disease. 
Now  his  eye  is  fixed  upon  the  bubble  with  fretful  earnest- 
ness. Now  he  leaps  with  desperation  and  disappointment. 
Now  it  leads  him  away  from  all  that  is  bright  and  beautiful, 
from  all  the  tender,  clustering,  hallowed  associations  of  by- 
gone days,  up  the  steep  hot  sides  of  a  fearful  volcano.  Now 
there  is  pain  and  anguish  in  the  chase.  He  leaps  and 
falls,  and  rises,  bruised,  scorched,  and  blistered ;  but  the 
excitement  has  the  mastery  over  him ;  he  forgets  all  that  is 
past,  and  in  his  terrible  chase  he  leaps  again.  It  is  gone ! 
He  curses,  and  bites  his  lips  in  agony,  and  shrieks  almost  the 
wild  shriek  of  despair.  Yet  still  he  pursues  his  prize.  He 
must  secure  it.  Knee-deep  in  the  hot  ashes,  he  falls,  then 
up  again  with  limbs  torn  and  bruised,  the  last  semblance  of 
humanity  scorched  out  of  him.  Yet  there  is  his  prize  I  He 
will  have  it.  With  one  desperate  effort  he  makes  a  sudden 
leap.  Ah,  he  has  it  now  ;  but  he  has  leaped  into  the  volcano, 


182  AN  AFTERNOON  WITH  WERNER. 

and,  with  a  burst  bubble  in  his  hand,  goes  to  his  retribu- 
tion. Heaven  pity  every  man  who  follows,  and  is  fascinated 
by,  an  enjoyment  God  has  not  sanctioned.  The  result  of  all 
God's  good  gifts  to  him  is  a  burst  bubble  !  An  Indian  chief 
bartered  away  costly  diamonds  for  a  few  glass  beads  and  a 
plated  button.  Young  men  are  every  day  bartering  awa}^ 
jewels  worth  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth  for  less  than  a 
plated  button,  for  that  which  vanishes  in  their  eager  grasp. 

Enjoyment !  We  have  wonderful  capacities  for  enjoyment, 
and  wonderful  sources  of  enjoyment.  But  I  have  come  to 
this  conclusion,  young  men,  That  there  is  no  enjoyment  worth 
having  for  which  you  cannot  thank  God.  None  !  And  if  you 
can  get  drunk,  and  then  thank  God  for  it  the  next  morning, 
then  I  have  nothing  more  to  say  to  you.  We  have  sources  of 
enjoyment  all  around  us  and  beneath  us  and  above  us  and 
everywhere.  I  remember  a  lady  asking  me  once,  in  Cincin- 
nati, if  I  would  go  and  hear  Werner  play.  Now  I  am  exceed- 
ingly fond  of  music,  and  he  is  an  admirable  musician.  We 
went  to  his  room,  and  he  said  he  would  play  for  me  on  Wednes- 
day afternoon  as  long  as  I  chose  to  listen.  O,  those  wild, 
weird,  wailing  discords  of  Chopin,  resolved  into  such  wonder- 
ful harmony !  All  I  could  say  was,  like  Oliver  Twist,  "More, 
more,"  and  he  gave  me  more  for  nearly  two  hours.  And  then 
he  stood  up,  twisting  his  fingers,  and  said,  "  You  fill  me  full 
of  music;  you  are  such  a  grand  listener;  I  will  give  you  a 
sonata  from  Beethoven."  When  I  went  out  I  said  to  the 
lady  who  accompanied  me,  "  I  thank  God  for  such  a  capacity 
for  enjoyment."  There  is  something  to  be  thankful  for. 

Stand  with  me  on  the  summit  of  the  Br^ven.  Yonder  are 
the  white  ridges  of  the  Vaudois  and  Bernese  Alps.  Behind 
us,  Sallenche  with  its  bridge ;  before  us,  hoary-headed  Mont 
Blanc,  the  monarch  of  the  Alps ;  there,  the  D8me  du  G6utd, 
the  Aiguille  du  Dru,  the  Mer  de  Glace,  the  Glacier  d'Argen- 


THE  DANGER  OF  GRATIFICATION.  183 

here,  the  Glacier  cles  Bossons,  the  Glacier  de  Taconnay,  and 
Chamouni,  like  a  nest  of  ant-hills  at  our  feet.  The  Arveyron, 
rushing  from  the  Mer  de  Glace,  joins  the  Arve,  and,  like  a  sil- 
ver ribbon,  winds  through  the  valley.  How  deeply,  darkly, 
beautifully  blue  the  sky  !  How  clear  the  atmosphere  !  Hark ! 
Is  that  distant  thunder?  No;  it  is  the  ice  cracking,  miles 
away  in  yonder  glacier.  Listen.  It  is  the  soft  sound  of  fall- 
ing water,  sweetly  breaking  the  hush  and  stillness  of  nature 
in  repose.  How  grand,  how  sublime,  how  awful !  Your  eyes 
fill  with  tears,  your  nerves  quiver,  your  heart  thrills,  and  your 
whole  soul  seems  to  be  absorbed  by  the  wonderful  grandeur 
and  sublimity  and  beauty.  And  you  thank  God  that  you  are 
created  with  such  a  capacity  for  enjoyment,  and  with  such 
sources  of  gratification  all  around  you  and  about  you  and 
above  you,  worthy  of  a  God  to  give  to  man,  and  of  man  to 
receive  reverently  from  his  Maker. 

And  that  one  fact  of  a  little  temporary  gratification  is  all 
that  you  can  bring  in  favor  of  the  drink !  Why,  if  there 
was  no  gratification,  there  would  be  no  danger.  It  is  the 
gratification  to  a  man  of  nervous  susceptibility  that  consti- 
tutes the  danger.  The  gratification  produced  by  the  action 
of  drink  on  the  brain  and  nervous  system,  in  whatever  phase 
it  may  present  itself  to  you,  is  always  harmful ;  whether  you 
are  very  jolly,  or  whether  you  are  outrageously  merry,  or 
whether  you  are  sullen  and  surly,  it  makes  very  little  differ- 
ence. It  is  no  more  degrading  to  be  brutally  drunk  than  it 
is  to  be  sillily  drunk,  and  have  a  whole  city  laughing  at  you. 
The  very  fact  of  intoxication  is  debasing  and  degrading  to  the 
man,  whether  you  get  enjoyment  from  it,  or  whether  it  brings 
upon  you  the  horrors  of  delirium  tremens.  God  speed  the 
day  when  our  dear  country  shall  be  freed  from  the  agencies 

that  tend  to  promote  and  perpetuate  this  great  evil. 
12 


CHAPTER   VII. 


SAFETY   BETTER    THAN    RISK —  TOUCHING    HOME    SCENES  — 
STARTLING  FACTS   AND   UNDISPUTED   TESTIMONY. 

Human  Sacrifices  —  A  Mother's  Sad  Story  —  Turning  a  Dissipated  Son  Out 
of  Doors  —  My  Interview  with  Him  —  On  the  Edge  of  a  Precipice  —  A 
Thrilling  Incident  —  Mad  With  Delirium  Tremens  —  A  Fearful  Leap  to 
Destruction  —  A  Story  from  Real  Life  — That  Little  Word  "No"  — 
The  Yankee  Merchant  and  his  Eggs  —  A  Laughable  Story  —  Startling 
Facts  —  The  Greatest  Swindle  of  the  Age  —  What  I  Saw  in  a  Distillery  — 
Effect  of  Liquor  on  Animals  —  How  it  Affects, the  Human  Body  —  A 
Most  Extraordinary  Story  —  A  Physician's  Horrible  Experiments  on  a 
Corpse  Distended  with  Liquor  Gas  —  Puncturing  the  Body,  and  Lighting 
the  Gas  in  Sixteen  Places  —  A  Child's  Rescue  —  A  Thrilling  Scene  — 
A  Very  Obstinate  Deacon  —  A  Funny  Story  —  The  Dutchman  and  His 
Setting  Hen  —  Record  of  a  Noble  Woman  —  My  Disagreeable  Neighbor  — 
A  Ship  on  Her  First  Cruise  —  The  Storm. 

REMEMBER  reading  in 
Prescott's  "  History  of  Mexi- 
co," that  when  the  natives 
offered  human  sacrifices  they 
elected  the  noblest  and  bright- 
est young  men  of  their  nation, 
and  trained  them  intellectu- 
ally and  physically,  so  that 
they  might  become  fit  sacrifices  to  their 
gods.  Then  they  led  them  up  on  a 
platform,  before  the  assembled  thou- 
sands, and  the  priest,  armed  with  a 
sharp  stone,  opened  the  breast  of  the  victim,  tore  out  the 
heart,  and  held  it  up,  quivering  with  life,  and  the  people 
shouted  their  approval.  That  was  a  heathen  sacrifice  to 
heathen  gods  in  a  heathen  land ;  and  yet,  in  Christendom, 
184 


A  DISTRESSED  MOTHER.  185 

altars  are  erected  in  households,  and  worship  is  offered  and 
sacrifice  made  to  the  blood-stained,  gore-smeared  Moloch, 
Drink,  and  the  victim  is  often  a  brother  or  child  or  friend. 
Men  and  women,  professing  Christianity,  gather  round  those 
altars  and  feed  the  fire  that  consumes  the  sacrifice ;  for  on 
every  altar  there  is  a  sacrifice,  and  in  every  household  a  vic- 
tim, and  when  the  charred  bones  alone  are  left,  they  are 
buried,  and  the  work  goes  on  as  fearfully  as  ever. 

A  gentleman  in  a  large  city  sent  for  me  to  call  at  his 
house.  I  almost  thought,  as  I  entered  the  house,  "  I  cannot 
be  needed  here."  The  servant  showed  me  to  the  drawing- 
room,  richly  appointed  with  all  that  wealth  could  afford.  A 
lady  of  aristocratic  bearing  soon  made  her  appearance,  and 
after  the  usual  commonplaces  she  asked  me  a  strange  question. 
"  You  have  had  great  experience,"  she  said,  "  but  have  you 
ever  known  or  heard  of  a  son  striking  his  mother  ?  "  "  More 
than  once,"  I  said,  "  but  never  unless  that  son  was  influenced 
by  drink ;  indeed,  I  cannot  believe  that  any  young  man,  in 
his  sober  senses,  would  strike  his  mother."  She  seemed 
relieved  to  know  that  hers  was  not  a  solitary  case,  and  she 
informed  me  that  she  had  a  son  who  had  been  dissipated  for 
years. 

They  had  tried  fair  means  and  harsh  measures  with  him, 
but  to  no  purpose.  "At  length,"  said  she,  "  we  have  turned 
him  out  of  the  house.  We  have  provided  him  with  no  money, 
but  he  will  get  money,  and  has  obtained  it  in  a  way  I  dare  not 
tell  you.  I  wish  you  could  see  him  ;  but  you  must  not  let 
him  know  I  have  seen  you." 

Three  weeks  after,  a  gentleman  called  on  me  and  requested 
me  to  meet  this  young  man  at  a  hotel.  He  said  he  would 
introduce  me,  but  I  was  not  to  speak  on  any  but  general  top- 
ics. The  young  man  met  me  very  cordially.  There  seemed 
to  be  something  admirable  in  his  disposition,  but  he  had  evi- 


186 


I  WILL  DRINK   TILL   I  DIE.' 


dently  drank  much.  Shortly  after,  he  said  he  knew  me,  and 
that  he  had  heard  me  speak  in  the  tabernacle,  and  that  I  had 
told  the  truth,  "  for,"  he  said,  "  I  am  a  drunkard."  I  began 
then  to  speak  to  him  about  drink.  He  said  he  never  would 
give  it  up.  "Perhaps  you  don't  believe  me,"  he  said,  "but 
I'll  tell  you  the  reason ;  it  is  because  I  cannot,  I  cannot."  "I 
don't  believe  you,"  said  I.  "  I  have  tried  to  do  it,"  said  he, 

"  time  after 
time.  Yes, 
sir,"  and  he 
became  excit- 
ed and  paced  the 
room ;  "  I  have 
disgraced  my 
family;  yes,  and 
they  have  turned 
me  out  of  doors. 
They  tried  to 
keep  money  from 
me,  but  I  got  it ; 
I  stole  it,  and 
will  steal  it  again. 
I  must  have 
drink ;  I  will  drink  till  I  die ;  and  when  I  die  I  hope  I  shall 
die  drunk."  "  I  have  heard  men  before  talk  as  you  do,"  said 
I;  "you  don't  mean  what  you  say."  I  spoke  of  his  mother. 
He  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  cried  out,  "  Look  here,  have  you 
seen  my  mother  ? "  I  endeavored  to  evade  his  question. 
"Have  you  seen  my  mother?"  he  continued;  "be  honest,  and' 
tell  me."  "I  have."  "And  she  sent  you  to  me,  did  she 
not?  "  Then  he  drew  himself  up,  his  face  changed,  and,  with 
his  hand  clenched  and  a  fierce  expression  of  countenance,  he 
shouted,  "  Go  back,  back  to  her,  I  say ;  tell  her  it  is  too  late 


BACK,    BACK   TO   HER,    I   SAY.' 


"MY  MOTHER  TAUGHT  ME."  187 

to  send  a  temperance  lecturer  now ;  it  is  too  late  for  her  to 
do  anything  for  me.  My  mother  is  a  good  woman,  and  I 
respect  her,  but  I  don't  love  her ;  every  particle  of  affection 
for  her  is  burnt  out  of  me.  I  remember  how,  in  that  ac- 
cursed dining-room,  she  used  to  say,  '  Only  a  half-glass,  my 
dear,'  when  she  asked  me  to  drink  the  health  of  the  gentle- 
men there.  Now  what  am  I  to  do,"  added  he,  "  but  to  drink 
on  ?  for  my  mother  taught  me." 

Oh,  but,  it  may  be  said,  if  he  had  not  learned  to  drink  at 
his  mother's  table,  he  might  somewhere  else.  "It  must  needs 
be  that  offences  come,  but  woe  to  that  man  by  whom  the 
offence  cometh."  And  when  you  give  a  child  a  glass,  you 
give  him  that  which  can  do  him  no  good,  but  which  may  be 
the  means  of  his  ruin,  and  may  lead  him  by  and  by  into  a 
course  of  evil  that  will  be  painful  to  contemplate. 

Some  ladies  have  said  to  me,  "  But  you  total  abstainers 
seem  to  blame  us  for  recklessly  conforming  to  the  customs  of 
society,  as  if  we  had  no  care  whether  our  friends  became 
intemperate  or  not."  It  is  not  so.  Do  you  suppose  I  would 
dare  to  say  that  the  mother  who  gives  her  child  drink  has  no 
love  for  her  child?  I  remember  an  incident  that  occurred 
upon  Table  Rock,  Niagara  Falls,  before  it  fell.  A  lady  was 
standing  upon  the  brink  of  the  precipice,  and,  seeing  a  shrub 
just  below  her,  stooped  forward  to  pluck  it,  when  her  foot 
slipped,  and  she  fell  over  the  precipice  and  was  dashed  to 
pieces.  Now,  I  ask,  if  a  brother  and  sister  were  standing  on 
Table  Rock,  and  he  should  say,  "  Sister,  I  '11  pluck  that  shrub 
and  bring  it  to  you ;  a  poor,  timid  woman,  in  attempting  to 
pluck  it,  fell ;  but  I  have  nerve  enough ;  I  can  stand,  and 
stoop  quietly,  and  deliberately  pluck  the  shrub,"  where  is  the 
sister  that  would  say,  "  Well,  my  brother,  you  are  not  such  a 
fool  as  to  fall;  you  have  nerve  enough  to  pluck  it?"  There 
is  not  a  sister  that  would  not  say,  "  Brother,  there  is  risk  in 


188  POSSESSED  OF  A  DEVIL. 

it,  stand  back ! "  And  yet  the  sister  is  saying,  "  Brother,  pluck 
the  wreath  entwined  around  this  goblet ;  thousands  have  been 
stung  to  death  by  the  serpent  concealed  in  the  flowers ;  but 
bind  the  wreath  on  your  brow ;  to  you  it  shall  be  a  wreath 
of  honor,  although  to  thousands  it  has  been  a  band  of  ever- 
lasting infamy."  It  is  fearful  when  we  look  at  the  fascina- 
tion which  seems  to  have  laid  hold  of  the  people  through  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  land  in  sustaining  and  supporting 
the  drinking  customs  of  society. 

A  young  man,  the  son  of  a  wealthy  merchant,  after  drink- 
ing freely,  was  seized  with  delirium  tremens  in  a  hotel.  His 
friends  came  to  see  him,  but  hardly  understood  his  ravings 
as  he  begged  them  to  tear  away  the  serpents  that  were  twin- 
ing themselves  around  him.  At  last,  feeling  one  of  the 
paroxysms  of  this  terrible  disease  stealing  upon  him,  he 
started  from  his  bed  and  cried,  "  Hold  me  !  "  and  dashed  out 
of  the  window,  In  the  street,  amid  broken  glass,  blood,  and 
mire,  they  found  him,  broken  and  bruised,  his  poor  spirit 
fluttering  against  the  bars  of  the  crippled  body.  They  took 
him  up  and  laid  him  upon  his  bed.  They  lifted  the  heavy, 
steaming  hair  from  his  brow,  and  wiped  the  blood  from  his 
face  and  mouth.  Delirium  was  now  gone.  His  face  was 
pale  as  ashes.  He  clenched  his  fingers  as  if  he  would 
press  the  nails  into  the  flesh,  his  lip  curled  over  his  white 
teeth  in  the  agonies  of  death,  and  his  eyes  glared  upon  his 
companions  with  the  ferocity  of  a  tiger  as  he  said,  "  Oh,  why 
did  you  not  hold  me ?  Curse  ye,  why  did  you  not  hold  me?" 
Why  did  they  not  hold  him  ?  It  was  too  late  ;  the  demon  of 
drink  had  full  possession  of  him,  and  no  mortal  power  could 
have  held  him  then.  But  when,  as  a  boy,  he  stood  at  his 
mother's  side  and  looked  in  her  face  with  his  bright  blue 
eye,  why  did  not  she  hold  him  ?  When,  as  a  boy,  he  sat  on  his 
father's  knee,  with  his  arm  around  his  neck,  and  his  face  laid 


A  WIFE'S   DEVOTION. 


191 


to  his  cheek,  in  God's  name  why  did  not  he  hold  him  ? 
From  what?  From  that  which  no  physician  would  dare  to 
say  was  beneficial  for  a  healthy  child. 

I  know  a  gentleman  who  married  a  sweet  and  lovely  girl. 
She  was  very  devoted  to  him,  and  when  she  discovered  his 
dissipated  habits  she  endeavored  to  shield  him.  When  he 

stayed  out  at  night  she 
would  send  the  servants  to 
bed,  while  she  waited  and 
watched  for  him  ;  and  then, 
in  her  night-dress,  and  a 
pair  of  slippers  on  her  feet, 
she  would  glide  down  very 
gently  and  let  him  in.  One 
night  he  came  home  late. 
The  servants  were  in  bed. 
The  house  had  a  front  door, 
then  a  marble  vestibule,  and 
then  an  inner  door.  She 
opened  the  one,  stepped 
upon  the  cold  marble,  and 
opened  the  outer  door. 
The  drunken  husband  en- 
tered, seized  her  by  the 
shoulders,  swung  her  round, 
opened  the  inner  door,  quickly  passed  through,  and  locked  it 
before  his  wife  could  enter ;  she  would  not  speak  or  cry  out, 
lest  she  should  disgrace  her  husband  before  the  servants.  In 
the  morning  she  was  found  with  her  night-dress  drawn  under 
her  feet,  crouching  in  the  corner,  almost  chilled  to  death. 
On  her  death-bed  she  told  her  father  all  about  it,  or  the 
circumstance  would  never  have  been  known.  There  is  much 
that  is  never  known,  as  well  as  a  vast  amount  of  misery  and 


SAVING   A  HUSBAND  FROM  DISGRACE. 


192      AN  UNFORTUNATE  YANKEE  MERCHANT. 

degradation  that  does  crop  out,  and  which  is  startling  in  its 
reality. 

Young  men  sometimes  say  it  is  very  difficult  to  say  "  No  " 
to  a  young  lady  when  asked  to  take  wine.  I  do  not  know 
what  amount  of  moral  courage  might  be  necessary,  for  I  have 
never  been  tried.  These  young  men  put  me  in  mind  of  a 
Yankee  storekeeper,  who  was  a  great  stutterer;  he  could 
always  say  any  word  but  the  one  he  wanted.  He  had  a 
quantity  of  eggs  to  sell.  They  rose  in  price  from  ninepence 
to  a  shilling  a  dozen.  A  customer  came  in  one  day. 

"  Have  you  anj-  eggs  ?  " 

"  Yes,  quite  a  qu-quantity." 

"  What  do  you  sell  them  at?  " 

"A  sh-she-she-she-ninepence  a  dozen." 

"Well,  I'll  take  five  dozen." 

After  the  customer  left  he  resolved  to  guard  against 
further  loss,  and  commenced  to  practise:  "  A  shilling  a  dozen, 
a  shilling  a  dozen,  a  shilling  a  dozen."  In  came  another 

customer. 

•• 

44  Any  eggs  to  sell  ? 

44  Yes,  quite  a  qu-quantity." 

"  What 's  the  price  of  'em  ?  " 

44  A  sh-she —  a  she-she —  ninepence  a  dozen." 

"  Well,  I  '11  take  seven  dozen." 

Again  the  store-keeper  commenced  his  practice :  "  A  shil- 
ling a  dozen,  a  shilling  a  dozen."  In  came  a  third  customer. 

44  Any  eggs  to  sell  ?  " 

"  Yes,  qu-quite  a  quantity." 

44  What 's  the  price  ?  " 

"  Well,  eggs,  you  know,  are  riz.  They  used  to  be  ni-nine- 
pence  a  dozen." 

44  But  what  do  you  sell  them  at  now  ?  " 

"Well,  some  sell  'em  at  eighteen-pence,  some  fifteen-pence." 


CHAMPAGNE  AND  REAL  PAIN.  193 

"But  what  do  you  sell  them  at  ? " 

"  How  many  will  you  take  ?  " 

"  Oh,  perhaps  twelve  dozen." 

"  Oh,  well,  I  '11  let  you  have  'em  for  ah  —  eh  —  eh  —  ah  —  " 

"Well,  how  much?" 

"A  sh  -  she  -  she  -  she — hang  those  eggs;  take  'em  all  at 
ninepence  a  dozen." 

So  young  men  when  invited  to  take  a  glass  of  wine,  "Ah, 
n-n-n-,  wrell,  yes,  thank  you."  But,  ladies,  what  right  have 
you  to  ask  any  young  man  to  take  wine  ?  None.  You  have 
no  right  to  offer  to  anyone  that  which  may  injure  him. 

There  is  no  benefit  to  be  derived  from  drinking;  there  is 
no  good  in  the  wine  you  drink.  How  much  wine  is  there 
drunk  in  the  country,  do  you  think?  When  I  visited  the 
island  of  Jersey,  I  was  informed  that  there  was  more  port 
wine  manufactured  in  Oporto  and  sent  to  London  than  was 
consumed  of  the  real  wine  in  all  the  world.  Yet  everybody 
drinks  pure  wine !  Young  men  drink  champagne  sometimes, 
—  sham  pain  at  night,  and  real  pain  the  next  morning. 
Why,  there  is  more  champagne  bought  and  sold  in  the  city 
of  New  York  than  there  is  real  wine  manufactured  in  the 
whole  world.  Then  what  do  London,  Paris,  and  all  the 
other  cities  do  for  theirs  ?  For  they  all  have  it  pure  !  Is  it 
not  ridiculous  that  persons  should  pay  such  a  high  premium 
for  being  poisoned  ?  Yes,  sparkling  champagne !  Cider 
filtered  through  charcoal,  with  sugar  of  lead  put  into  it,  and 
carbonic  acid  gas  enough  to  make  it  fizz,  —  sham  enough  in 
all  conscience.  I  talked  with  a  champagne  merchant  once, 
and  he  said,  "  It  is  n't  a  cheat.  When  you  cheat  a  man,  you 
deceive  him,  but  nobody  can  be  deceived  about  this.  When 
it  is  sold  for  one  dollar  or  one  dollar  and  a  half  per  bottle, 
do  you  think  the  public  are  such  confounded  fools  as  not  to 
know  it  is  manufactured?  Why,  the  pure  champagne  would 


194  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  LIQUOR-SELLER. 

be  from  three  to  eight  dollars  per  bottle :  and  we,  after  giving 
the  wholesale  and  retail  dealers  a  profit,  put  it  into  the  mar- 
ket for  one  dollar.  They  must  know  it  is  spurious,  but  they 
don't  know  that  it  costs  us  less  than  thirty  cents  per  bottle." 
"  But,"  I  said,  "  many  people  buy  it  in  bond."  "  Ha,  ha !  " 
said  he,  "  They  are  the  most  cheated  of  any.  We  can  send 
tens  of  thousands  of  baskets  of  champagne  to  France,  and 
have  it  sent  back  again ;  people  then  pay  freight  and  duty 
both  ways,  and  then  they  have  it  pure,  you  know." 

I  met  Dr.  Collenette,  one  of  the  surgeons  of  a  hospital  in 
Guernse}r,  who  manufactures  port  wine  before  an  audience 
and  defies  the  best  connoisseurs  to  distinguish  it  from  the 
real.  That  wine  costs  him  three  halfpence  a  bottle,  and  he 
makes  the  port-wine  crust  for  four  bottles  for  about  three 
farthings.  This  manufacture  of  wine  is  the  most  abominable 
cheat,  the  most  transparent  swindle  of  the  age.  Young  men 
who  quaff  your  wine,  you  are  most  thoroughly  humbugged. 
If  you  don't  believe  it,  get  "  Lacour  on  the  Manufacture  of 
Wines,"  and,  if  you  can,  obtain  "The  Wine-Merchant's  Guide, 
or  the  Liquor-Seller's  Vade  Mecum,"  and  your  eyes  will  be 
opened  to  this  abominable  adulteration  of  liquors.  Dickens 
has  given  us  long  articles  on  this  subject;  and  it  has  been 
said  that,  if  you  want  a  keg  of  port  wine,  you  must  go  to 
Oporto  and  see  it  made,  and  then  sit  astride  the  barrel  all 
the  way  home. 

You  remember  there  Avas  a  failure  of  grapes  in  Madeira 
some  years  ago,  and  grapes  are  failing  now  in  France.  But 
to  you  who  drink  Madeira  or  French  Avine  it  will  make  no 
difference.  There  may  not  be  another  grape  grown;  but  still 
if  you  \vant  Madeira  or  any  other  wine,  there  will  always  be 
an  abundant  supply  of  it.  A  gentleman  was  going  into  the 
wine  business  in  New  York,  and  a  friend  said,  "  What  are 
you  going  into  the  business  for?"  "Oh,"  said  he,  "to  make 


A  DOUBTFUL  CENSUS.  195 

money.  I  am  tired  of  the  old  jog-trot  way  of  going  to 
work."  "  But  are  there  not  a  great  many  people  engaged  in 
the  business?"  "Yes,"  said  the  wine-merchant,  "but  I  have 
obtained  the  services  of  a  man  from  England,  who  has  been 
engaged  in  London  in  the  manufacture  of  wine  nearly  thirty 
years.  I  pay  him  $3,500  a  year,  and  he  can  make  any  wine 
you  ask  for  out  of  the  water  in  that  kennel."  That  is  the 
way  wine  is  made,  a  great  deal  of  it,  and  I  repeat,  there  is 
no  good  in  it,  and  there  is  a  positive  evil  arising  from  its 
use. 

Some  time  ago  I  sat  at  the  table  of  a  Christian  gentleman 
who  said  to  me,  "  Mr.  Gough,  if  I  should  die  to-night,  a 
comfort  to  my  mind  beyond  description  would  be  the  fact 
that  my  three  girls  and  five  boys  never  saw  one  drop  of  the 
drink  in  their  father's  house."  Thank  God,  there  are  many 
such  families  to-day  and  their  number  is  increasing. 

Let  me  illustrate  how  unhealthy  the  fat  of  these  stout 
gentlemen  must  be  who  drink  spirituous  liquor,  wine,  and 
beer.  I  once  went  into  a  large  distillery  on  the  banks  of  the 
Ohio,  in  which  1,700  bushels  of  corn  are  used  every  day, 
except  Sundays,  all  the  year  round.  They  use  steam  power, 
taking  the  cobs  of  the  corn  for  fuel,  and  the  product  of  the 
distillery  is  about  a  hundred  gallons  of  whiskey  every  day. 
It  was  said  in  a  newspaper  that  the  town  in  which  this 
distillery  stood  was  a  thriving  place  with  14,500  inhabitants, 
—  2,500  bipeds  and  12,000  hogs,  —  and  that  the  hogs  were 
fed  on  the  distillery  slops  entirely.  Certainly  I  never  saw 
such  handsome-looking  animals  in  my  life.  They  were 
round  and  fat,  and,  looking  at  one  of  them,  you  would  say, 
"What  a  handsome  porker  that  is!"  Yes,  but  they  had  to 
keep  men  to  watch  them ;  for  as  soon  as  a  pig  got  a  scratch 
on  the  skin  it  never  would  heal ;  it  turned  to  a  running  sore, 
and  the  animal  had  to  be  killed.  The  flesh  of  a  man  who 


196  A   HORRIBLE   EXPERIMENT. 

grows  stout  by  drinking  is  not  healthy.  Physicians  in  hos- 
pitals will  tell  you  that  the  worst  cases  of  fracture  they  have 
to  deal  with  are  those  of  brewers'  draymen,  who  drink  so 
much  beer;  that  the  cases  which  are  most  incurable  are  those 
of  men  who  have  a  healthy  appearance,  but  are  puffed  up 
and  bloated  by  drinking  beer.  Sir  William  Gull,  in  his 
testimony  before  the  select  committee  of  the  House  of  Lords 
on  intemperance,  says :  — 

"  I  mention  what  I  once  saw  myself,  in  the  case  of  one  of 
Barclay  &  Perkins'  draymen.  The  case  is  recorded.  The 
man  was  admitted  into  Guy's  Hospital  with  heart  disease ;  I 
just  now  said  that  heart  disease  may  come  through  drink ;  he 
was  a  very  stout  man ;  he  died  at  about  a  quarter  past  ten  at 
night,  at  about  this  season  of  the  year,  and  the  next  day  he 
was  so  distended  with  gas  in  all  directions  that  he  was  quite 
a  curious  sight.  Wishing  to  know  what  this  gas  meant,  we 
punctured  the  skin  in  many  parts,  and  tested  it.  It  was  car- 
buretted  hydrogen,  and  I  remember  lighting  on  his  body 
fifteen  or  sixteen  gaslights  at  once.  They  continued  burning 
until  the  gas  had  burned  away." 

He  also  stated  that  this  result  had  occurred  in  several 
cases. 

After  all,  the  main  reason  we  advance  for  engaging  in 
this  crusade  against  drink  is  our  regard  for  others.  We  want 
something  of  the  spirit  of  benevolence  that  prompted  an  old 
lady  in  New  Haven.  A  horse  ran  away  with  a  wagon,  and 
there  was  a  little  boy  in  it;  and  she  ran  screaming  after  it. 
Somebody  said,  "  Madam,  is  that  your  boy  ?  "  "  No,"  said 
she,  "  but  it 's  somebody's  boy,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

Suppose  you  should  see  a  child  drowning  in  the  river, 
would  you,  in  place  of  rushing  in  to  save  it,  say,  "Why,  look 
at  that  child  in  the  river,  whose  child  is  that?  I  wonder 
nobody  looks  after  it ;  I  'm  thankful  it 's  not  mine.  What  a 


RESCUED   FROM   THE  FLAMES. 


197 


pity  it  should  be  left  to  drown.  Why  don't  parents  look 
after  children  a  little  better  ?  If  that  child  was  mine,  I  'd  be 
more  careful  to  keep  it  from  peril."  Or  suppose  at  night  a 
fire  breaks  out  in  the  city.  If  you  knew  the  fire  had  broken 
out  in  a  house  inhabited  by 
human  beings,  would  not 
your  sympathies  be  excited 
to  the  utmost?  See,  the 
flames  are  bursting  out  at  that 
window,  up  there !  Every 
eye  is  fixed  on  the  spot. 
There  's  a  child  there  !  Who, 
who  will  save  him  ?  See  how 
the  flames  are  rolling  out- 
wards and  upwards  !  A  lad- 
der is  raised,  one  of  the 
sympathizing  crowd  ascends, 
he 's  at  the  window,  boldly 
he  dashes  into  the  burning 
building;  the  spectators  are 
awe-struck,  their  eyes  are 
fixed  on  the  window  he  has 
entered  ;  it  is  a  moment  of 
painful  suspense.  Ha!  he 
has  the  child,  he  has  the 
child  ;  he  is  safe,  safe  !  The 

deliverer  is  overwhelmed  by  the  grateful  manifestations  of 
the  citizens,  and  the  noble  deed  is  recorded  in  all  the  news- 
papers. 

What  is  moderation  to  one  may  be  drunkenness  and  death 
to  another.  Suppose  a  bridge  built  over  a  deep  gulf,  and 
capable  of  holding  a  weight  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds. 
Your  weight  is  one  hundred  and  thirty  pounds  ;  that  is  a 


JUST    SAVED! 


198  OBSTINATE  PEOPLE. 

safe  bridge  for  you ;  you  walk  up  and  down  in  perfect  safety. 
But  there  stands  your  son,  who  weighs  two  hundred  pounds, 
and  you  tell  him  to  follow  your  example.  "  But  I  don't 
like  the  bridge,  father."  "  Don't  be  a  fool ;  I  have  walked 
over  it  for  years  in  perfect  safety ;  there  is  no  crack  about  it, 
I  have  never  felt  it  give  way."  "Yes,  but  they  say — ." 
"Don't  be  such  a  fool  as  to  mind  what  they  say.  One  man 
can  do  what  another  can.  Follow  my  example,  and  don't 
mind  the  fanatics."  The  young  man  sets  his  foot  on  the 
bridge ;  there  is  a  crash  and  a  shriek,  and  he  goes  down  to 
destruction.  Why  did  not  the  father  set  a  good  example? 
Because  he  did  not  take  into  consideration  the  difference  in 
the  weight.  I  say  to  any  gentleman,  or  to  any  lady,  that 
you  cannot,  with  any  regard  for  the  safety  of  that  boy  of 
yours,  of  a  nervous  temperament,  full  of  fire,  easily  excited,  — 
you  cannot,  in  view  of  the  evils  of  drunkenness  cursing  the 
land  and  sweeping  away  some  of  the  brightest  and  best 
among  mankind,  say  that  you  set  him  a  good  example  by 
your  moderation.  This  point  is  of  such  vital  importance 
that  it  will  bear  repetition. 

We  ask  you  to  help  us,  to  help  us  in  prevention,  and  to 
help  us  in  cure.  I  know  it  is  vain  to  appeal  to  some  people,  — 
utterly  vain.  There  are  men  who  take  pride  in  being  very 
firm,  when  in  reality  they  are  simply  very  obstinate.  They 
say,  "  Oh,  yes,  I  will  go  to  the  meeting,  but  he  can't  move 
me.  I  defy  any  man  to  make  me  laugh  or  cry.  I  will  hear 
what  he  says,  but  I  can  never  be  persuaded  to  give  up  my 
little  drop  of  beer.  I  won't."  "And  why?"  "Because 
I  won't."  They  are  not  able  to  give  a  reason. 

A  minister  of  the  gospel  told  me  that  once  he  had  a  man 
in  his  church  who  was  so  persistently  obstinate  that  he  could 
do  nothing  with  him.  He  tried  on  all  occasions  to  move  him. 
No  use.  He  was  a  member  of  the  church,  and  they  thought 


PRAYIXG  FOR  THE   DEACOX.  199 

if  they  made  him  a  deacon  that  would  do  him  good.  So 
they  made  him  a  deacon,  and  then  he  was  worse  than  ever. 
Now  I  have  found  out  in  my  experience  that  when  a  man  is 
absolutely  obstinate,  the  best  thing  is  to  let  him  alone.  His 
obstinacy  is  his  only  stock  in  trade  for  notoriety ;  take  that 
from  him  and  he  comes  to  his  own  level,  —  and  that  is,  mor- 
ally speaking,  a  lot  of  clothes  with  a  hat  on  the  top  of  them. 
The  more  you  plead  with  such  men,  the  more  you  cultivate 
and  strengthen  their  spirit  of  obstinacy.  Well,  this  man 
became  a  deacon,  and  then  he  troubled  the  church  ten  times 
more  than  before.  At  last,  at  a  church  meeting,  the  minister 
was  perfectly  worn  out  with  the  deacon's  obstinacy,  and  he 
said :  "  Brethren,  we  will  resolve  this  church  meeting  into  a 
prayer  meeting.  We  have  done  all  we  possibly  can  for 
Deacon  Williams,  and  now,  as  a  last  resort,  we  will  make 
him  the  subject  of  prayer.  Brother  So-and-So,  we  will  unite 
with  you  in  prayer  for  the  deacon."  So  he  prayed,  and  at 
the  conclusion  he  said :  "  Now  that  we  have  done  everything 
we  can  upon  earth  for  this  brother,  we  pray  thee  to  prepare 
him  and  take  him  to  heaven."  And  the  deacon  rose  and  said 
very  deliberately :  "  Brethren,  I  won't  go."  And  there  are 
men  who  will  not  go  to  heaven  if  you  want  them  to,  and  the 
best  way  to  get  them  there  is  to  let  them  alone. 

I  very  well  remember  meeting  a  man  of  this  kind  when  I 
began  to  speak  on  the  subject  of  temperance.  I  had  not 
quite  as  much  experience  then  as  I  have  now.  Some  one 
said  to  me  :  "  Now,  there  's  a  man  ;  if  you  can  get  him  to  sign 
the  pledge,  it  will  be  a  great  victory."  "  Great  victory ! 
why  ?  "  "  Because  he  's  such  an  obstinate  fellow  that  it  will 
be  a  great  victory  to  overcome  his  obstinacy."  I  met  him, 
and  I  said :  "  Mr.  Rice,  why  don't  you  sign  the  temperance 
pledge?"  "Because  I  won't."  "But  why  won't  you?" 
"  Because  I  won't."  "  Well,"  I  said,  "  Mr.  Rice  "  (I  thought 


200 


THE  DUTCHMAN'S  SETTING  HEN. 


a  funny  story  might  reach  him),  "you  remind  me  very 
much  of  a  Dutchman  who  had  a  hen,  and  he  said  to  a 
friend :  4 1  vants  dot  hen  to  set,  und  she  von't  set.  She 
hops  off  dose  eggs  und  runs  avay.  Den  I  makes  a  leetle  pox, 
shust  so  long  von  vay  und  shust  so  long  t'udder  vay,  und  I 
puts  dose  eggs  in  dot  pox,  und  den  I 
catches  dot  old  hen,  und  snubs  her  dis  vay 
und  dot  vay,  to  let  her  know  vot  I  means, 
und  says.  "  Now  set !  "  But  so  soon  as  I 
turns  mine  pack,  avay  goes  dot  hen  ;  und 
den  I  catch  her  von,  two,  free,  'leven 
dimes,  und  knocks  her. dis  vay  und  dot, 
efery  dime,  und  say,  "  Now  sit  dere  ! " 
But  I  vinds  I  could  do  net- 
ting mit  her.  So  I  gets  a 
leetle  lid  to  dot  pox,  und 
says  "  Now  I  dinks  I  've 
cot  you ; "  and  I  puts  dose 
eggs  in  dot  box,  und  chams 
dot  hen  town,  und  I  say, 
Hurrah !  A  leetle  vile  after- 
vords  I  goes  to  see  how  she 
gets  on,  und  I  lifts  up  von  cor- 
ner of  dot  lid,  and  I  shust 
looks  in.  Oh,  my  goodness ! 
dere  vas  dot  old  hen  shust  a- 

setting  standing  up  ! ' "  Well,  I  did  n't  get  a  smile  from  him, 
but  he  said  this  much :  "  I  think  I  've  got  a  good  deal  of  the 
old  hen  in  me." 

Now  there  are  some  men  we  cannot  move.  If  we  move 
those  to  help  us  who  are  not  themselves  injured  and  ruined 
by  the  drink,  we  must  ask  them  to  abstain  for  the  sake  of 
others.  And  as  I  have  said  before  (and  I  am  not  going  to 


OH,  MY  GOODNESS!" 


A  NOBLE  WOMAN.  201 

repeat  the  words,  but  the  sentiment)  ALL  HEROISM  LIES  IN 
SELF-SACRIFICE  ;  and  if  you  would  be  a  hero,  it  must  be  by 
doing  and  suffering  for  others.  For  a  man  to  be  a  hero  it  is 
not  requisite  that  he  should  be  scientific,  literary,  intellectual, 
logical,  oratorical,  or  eloquent ;  not  at  all.  How  many  heroes 
are  there  in  humble  life,  who  are  doing  their  work  in  the 
spirit  of  self-sacrifice !  Let  me  relate  to  you  the  case  of  one 
in  our  own  country. 

During  the  last  year  of  the  war,  three  gentlemen,  one  of 
them  an  Englishman,  were  riding  through  some  of  the  out- 
lying towns  of  New  England.  The  Englishman  said,  "The 
painful  feature  to  me  in  New  England  country  life  is  the 
immense  amount  of  human  vegetation  one  sees."  "  What  do 
you  mean?"  "Well,  in  these  isolated  country  towns  without 
railroad  communication,  what  do  the  people  do?  What  do 
they  see?  Where  have  they  been?  What  do  they  know? 
You,  who  are  working  in  the  busy  haunts  of  men  and  know 
what  life  is,  cannot  call  that  'life'  which  you  see  here.  Why, 
it  is  existing  in  a  circle ;  it  is  a  sort  of  vegetation.  Now 
there  you  see  a  specimen  of  just  what  I  mean." 

They  were  passing  a  farm  place,  and  on  one  side  was  a 
little  house,  a  one-and-a-half-story  house,  and  at  a  window  sat 
a  woman  knitting.  She  had  a  black  band  round  her  white 
widow's  cap,  and  was  of  advanced  age.  "There,"  he  con- 
tinued, "that's  just  what  I  mean.  Look  at  that  woman. 
She  eats  and  drinks  and  sleeps  and  knits  and  knits  and 
sleeps  and  drinks  and  eats,  day  by  day;  but  you  can't  call 
eating  and  drinking  and  sleeping  and  knitting,  life.  What 
does  she  know  ?  Where  has  she  been  ?  What  has  she  seen  ? 
What  has  she  done  ?  There  sits  a  human  vegetable."  Stop, 
sir;  stand  still  awhile  and  look  well  at  that  woman.  Her 
name  is  not  known  beyond  the  circle  of  her  acquaintance, 
within  the  radius  of  a  mile  or  two,  but  look  at  her.  Sixteen 
13 


202  A  MOTHER  OF  HEROES. 

years  ago  she  was  left  a  poor  widow  with  six  children  —  the 
youngest  a  boy  of  four  years  old.  She  owned  that  little  old 
house  and  four  acres  of  land ;  she  was  poor,  for  New  England. 
Where  is  her  eldest  son  ?  Doing  his  work  as  a  missionary 
in  a  foreign  field.  Where  is  her  second  son  ?  Doing  his 
work  as  a  home  missionary  in  western  Iowa  and  Kansas. 
Where  is  her  third  son?  His  work  is  done,  and  he  lies 
under  the  sod  at  Gettysburg.  She  gave  him  up  without  a 
murmur  and  she  wears  that  black  band  for  him.  Where  is 
her  youngest,  her  Benjamin  ?  With  his  regiment,  doing  his 
duty  in  defence  of  the  Union.  But  there  were  six  of  them  ? 
Ay,  but  a  requisition  came  from  Roanoke  and  Newbern, 
"  Send  us  teachers  for  our  contraband  negroes,  teachers  who 
are  willing  to  endure  privations  and  to  make  sacrifices  with- 
out remuneration,"  and  her  two  daughters  have  left  her  for 
their  field  of  labor,  and  she  is  alone,  eating  and  drinking  and 
sleeping  and  knitting.  Well,  let  her  eat  and  drink  and  sleep 
and  knit,  struggling  with  poverty.  She  has,  nevertheless, 
brought  up  her  family  of  children ;  she  has  given  them  to  her 
country  and  her  God,  and  now  she  sits,  quietly  biding  her 
time.  If  that  is  a  "  human  vegetable,"  God  send  to  our  dear 
country  a  plentiful  crop  of  such  vegetables. 

You  stand  on  one  side,  and  drink  your  glass  coolly,  and 
despise  another  man  because  he  is  weak-minded.  Can  he 
help  that?  It  is  his  infirmity.  And  instead  of  despising 
him  for  his  infirmity,  you  will,  if  you  are  a  Christian,  fulfil 
the  law  of  Christ  by  bearing  the  infirmity  of  your  weaker 
brother.  Why  do  you  despise  a  man  because  he  cannot  do 
what  you  can  do  ?  We  are  very  apt  to  despise  men  for  their 
infirmities.  And  I,  old  as  I  am,  am  learning  many  lessons 
about  this,  and  so  are  you. 

I  once  went  into  a  strange  church  in  a  city  in  the  United 
States.     I  was  on  a  lecturing  tour.    The  usher  gave  me  a  seat 


JUST   AS   I  AM.' 


203 


and  placed  a  man  by  my  side,  poorly  dressed,  and,  in  fact, 
a  very  disagreeable  man.  He  would  shrug  his  shoulders  and 
jerk  his  elbows.  His  face  twitched  as  if  sheet-lightning 
was  playing  over  it.  He  was  exceedingly  disagreeable.  I 
said  to  myself,  "I  wish  they  had  put  me  near  any  other 
man  than  this."  By  and  by  he  put  his  tongue  out  and  made 
a  gasping  noise.  "  Dear  me,  what  a  disagreeable  man  !  "  I 
began  to  dislike  him.  I 
began  to  detest  him.  I 
said  to  myself,  "I  wish 
they  had  put  him  in  an- 
other pew,"  and  I  moved 
as  far  from  him  as  I  con- 
veniently could.  He  was 
a  disagreeable  man.  The 
hymn  was  given  out  for 
the  congregation  to  sing, 
and  it  was  this  :  — 


"  Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea, 
But  that  thy  blood  was  shed  for  me." 

I  heard  that  man  try  to  sing,  and  I 
thought  to  myself,  "Well,  really,  if  he 
knows  that  hymn,  he  cannot  be  so  ex- 
ceedingly disagreeable."  So  I  moved 
nearer  to  him  until  I  heard  his  singing.  It  was  awful.  I  am 
exceedingly  fond  of  music ;  I  would  travel  miles  to  hear  good 
music.  It  was  positively  painful  to  hear  his  attempt  at  sing- 
ing. Such  groaning,  and  squeaking,  and  hesitating!  He 
would  stop  in  a  line  to  make  that  strange  noise.  Then  he 
would  begin  just  where  he  left  off,  and  sing  as  fast  as  he 
could  to  catch  up  with  the  others.  Then  he  would  go  on 
with  such  a  rush  that  he  was  two  or  three  words  ahead  of 
them.  I  said  to  myself,  "  At  any  rate,  this  is  a  disagreeable 


A  DISAGREEABLE 
NEIGHBOR. 


204  THE   LAUNCH. 

man."  I  moved  away  from  him  again.  He  came  to  a  line 
where  he  evidently  had  forgotten  the  words,  and  without 
looking  at  me,  but  turning  toward  where  I  stood,  he  said, 
44  Would  you  please  give  me  the  first  line  of  the  next  verse  ?  " 
I  said,  "  Yes,  sir, 

'  Just  as  I  am,  poor,  wretched,  blind.'  " 

He  said,  "  Thank  you  sir,  I  know  it  now,  for  t  am  Hind, 
God  help  me.  And  I  am  paralytic."  Then  I  heard  him  try 

to  sing, 

"Just  as  I  am,  poor,  wretched,  blind," 

and  I  tell  you,  I  never  heard  a  symphony  of  Beethoven 
that  thrilled  me  as  the  jagged  music  of  that  Christian  man 
with  whom  God  was  dealing,  and  I  could  have  taken  him, 
disagreeable  as  he  was,  right  to  my  heart. 

How  many  times  we  take  a  strong  dislike  to,  or  experience 
disagreeable  feelings  toward,  some  brother  man,  and  when  we 
know  something  of  him  we  find  that  he  is  an  angel  whom  we 
have  sent  away  from  us  with  rude  words  and  harsh  looks. 

One  word  more.  We  have  occasional  reactions,  and  many 
are  discouraged. 

There  may  be  something  like  reaction,  and  we  can  call  it 
reaction,  but  it  may  be  simply  the  settling  down  from  a  spe- 
cial excitement  to  the  solid  ground  of  principle.  We  are  not 
to  be  carried  away  by  excitement,  and  should  not  be.  We 
are  advocating  glorious  principles,  high  and  lofty  principles, 
and  we  will  seek  for  God's  help  in  our  noble  cause.  But  we 
must  prepare  for  experiences  that  may,  perhaps,  be  not  a  little 
discouraging.  Observe  a  noble  ship  as  she  is  launched.  She 
is  fully  rigged,  and  is  now  ready  for  sea;  and  as  she  sails 
down  the  river,  she  sweeps  past  most  majestically  on  her  first 
voyage.  There  is  a  band  of  music  on  the  quarter-deck,  the 
sailors  are  decked  in  their  holiday  rig,  each  at  his  station,  and 
from  the  trucks  to  the  main-chains  are  flags  flying  on  either 


THE   STORM.  205 

side.  On  the  wharves  and  on  the  banks  of  the  river  stand 
the  assembled  multitudes  with  waving  hats  and  handker- 
chiefs, cheering  the  noble  ship  on  her  first  cruise,  and  bidding 
good-by  to  the  passengers  on  their  first  voyage.  Are  all 
these  gayeties  to  last;  is  all  this  excitement  to  continue?  No. 
She  passes  down  the  river ;  she  gets  out  into  the  ocean ;  by 
and  by  the  captain  sees  a  cloud  no  bigger  than  a  man's 
hand.  Does  he  keep  that  band  of  music  on  the  quarter- 
deck? Does  he  keep  the  sailors  in  their  holiday  attire? 
Does  he  keep  the  flags  streaming  mast  high?  No.  He 
issues  his  orders  through  the  speaking-trumpet  in  tones 
that  may  be  heard  all  over  the  ship.  No  music  now  on 
the  quarter-deck ;  the  sailors  have  on  their  tarpaulins  and 
sou'-westers,  and  are  clad  in  fitting  garments  for  the  coming 
storm ;  the  flags  are  hauled  down  and  stowed  away.  Now 
man  those  yards,  stow  every  light  spar,  furl  this  sail  and 
reef  the  other.  Every  man  at  his  post,  two  at  the  helm, 
and  now  we  are  prepared  for  the  storm,  and  we  will  trust 
in  Providence.  The  tempest  bursts  upon  the  gallant  ship, 
and  she  quivers  in  every  timber.  The  waves  grow  mighty, 
strong,  and  fierce,  yet  she  rises  on  their  crests  and  again 
plunges  into  the  mighty  trough  of  the  sea.  "  Keep  her  head 
to  the  wind,"  shouts  the  captain.  By  hard  struggling  and 
a  great  display  of  skill  and  courage  she  is  kept  afloat.  By 
and  by  the  sunlight  breaks  through  the  murky  clouds,  the 
sky  becomes  clear,  she  passes  into  smooth  water,  and  they 
are  all  safe,  with  not  a  plank  started,  and  why?  Because 
in  calm  weather  they  prepared  for  the  coming  storm,  and 
then  trusted  in  God.  Let  us  imitate  their  example. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FACT    AND    FICTION    OF    EVERYDAY   LIFE  —  SMILING    FACES 
AND   TREACHEROUS   HEARTS  —  MEN   WHO  WEAR  MASKS. 

Variety  the  Spice  of  Life  —  Difficult  Things  for  Me  to  Do  —  What  I  Aim  to 
Do  —  Life  Often  a  Disguise  —  Snakes  in  the  Grass  —  Men  Who  Wear 
Masks  —  Duels,  Debts,  and  "Innocent  Amusements"  —  A  Persistent 
Collector  —  "  I  '11  Fix  Ye  "  —  The  Boy  and  the  Cherry  Pie  —  Absurd  Sen- 
tences—  Amusing  Illustrations  —  White  Lies  —  Story  of  a  Minister,  a 
Bull,  and  a  Bass  Viol  —  A  Matter-of-fact  Musician  —  The  Old  Lady  who 
was  Struck  by  Lightning  —  Loving  "  Everyting  zat  is  Beastly  "  —  Woman's 
Rights  — A  Vision  of  Eden— "Bridge!  Bridge!"— An  Animated  Poli- 
tical Discussion  —  Its  Sudden  End  —  A  Laughable  Story  —  A  Cool  Boarder 
—  His  Opinion  of  His  Landlady's  Butter — Choosing  Between  Three 
Lovers  — The  Captain's  Device  — How  it  Worked  —  Wasted  Lives  — 
Human  Wrecks — Real  Heroes. 

m 

SUPPOSE  an  indispensable 
requisite  for  a  discourse  of 
any  kind  is  a  title,  and  this 
is  a  difficult  matter  for  me  to 
fix  upon.  "  Variety  is  the 
spice  of  life,"  and  I  suppose 
it  will  be  considered  as  spice 
chapter  of  this  book.  For  my- 
self, I  decide  that  a  title  is  necessary 
as  a  peg  to  hang  a  few  thoughts 
upon.  No  one  expects  me  to  write 
an  elaborate  essay  on  a  given  sub- 
ject ;  I  could  not  if  I  tried.  I  find  it  very  difficult  to  stick. 
to  my  text.  If  I  select  a  subject,  I  cannot  treat  it  philoso- 
phically or  scientifically,  and  hardly  methodically.  I  like  to 
interest  if  I  can,  and  amuse  if  I  can;  but,  above  all,  my 

206 


MASQUERADING  IN  REAL   LIFE.  207 

earnest  desire  is  to  benefit.  I  know  that  a  lecture  from  me 
is  often  a  thing  of  shreds  and  patches ;  but  if  I  can  say  any 
word  or  utter  a  thought  that  will  be  a  help  or  stimulus  to 
anyone  in  the  great  conflict  of  life  which  is  to  all  of  us  a 
daily  battle,  and  may  be  a  daily  victory,  I  am  content.  I 
have  some  things  to  say  that  will  not  be  arranged  under  any 
particular  head,  and  therefore  I  trust  to  the  kindness  of  my 
readers  to  pardon  the  liberties  I  take  in  my  ramblings. 

I  have  selected  the  title,  then,  of  "  Fact  and  Fiction." 

I  might  say  truth  and  falsehood,  or  the  true  and  the  false, 
shadow  and  substance,  outward  show  and  inward  feeling,  or 
right  and  wrong;  for  truth  is  always  right,  and  wrong  is 
ever  false. 

In  modern  society,  life  is  often  a  disguise.  Almost  every 
man  walks  in  masquerade,  and  his  most  intimate  friend  very 
often  does  not  know  his  real  character.  Many  wear  smiles 
constantly  on  their  faces,  whose  hearts  are  unprincipled  and 
treacherous ;  their  smiles  are  more  to  be  dreaded  than  their 
frowns.  They  smile  and  smile,  and  murder  with  a  smile. 
Many,  with  all  the  external  calmness  and  serenity  of  an  even 
temper,  carry  within  them  a  volcano  of  passion.  Some,  while 
they  speak  with  sympathy,  are  full  of  gall  and  bitterness. 
Ak,  yes ;  and  perhaps  if  we  could  look  into  the  inner  heart 
of  the  man  whose  hand  we  clasp  in  friendship,  we  would 
shrink  from  him  with  loathing  and  disgust.  There  is  so 
much  hidden  beneath  the  surface,  that  we  know,  at  the  very 
beet,  but  a  portion  of  the  truth.  The  best  and  worst  deeds 
of  men  are  unchronicled.  Men  who  have  been  hung  on  the 
gallows  amid  execrations,  and  men  who  have  been  carved  in 
marble,  may  have  been  surpassed  in  villainy  or  virtue  by 
hundreds  whose  names  will  be  forever  unknown. 

Could  we  see  the  weakness  of  the  strong,  the  ignorance  of 
the  learned,  the  cowardice  of  the  brave,  the  folly  of  the 


208  BELIEF  AND  CONVICTION. 

wise,  —  could  we  discern  the  motives  that  influence  the  best 
and  the  worst  of  men,  —  we  should  be  compelled  to  regard 
every  man  as  wearing  a  mask,  and  concealing  the  real  fea- 
tures of  his  mind.  It  is  true  that  we  hide  more  than  we 
exhibit.  How  often  do  we  seek  to  appear  other  than  we 
really  are,  stifling  our  emotions,  trying  to  appear  happy  when 
our  hearts  are  bursting,  affecting  calmness  when  strong 
passion,  burning  in  our  veins,  is  clamoring  to  break  forth. 
Many  who  are  ill  scrupulously  hide  their  infirmities ;  those 
who  are  well  affect  ill  health;  rich  people  try  to  appear 
poor,  and  poor  people  endeavor  to  pass  themselves  off  as 
being  very  rich.  How  often  we  take  evil  for  good,  and 
good  for  evil.  When  Joseph  was  stripped  of  his  coat  of 
many  colors,  cast  into  the  pit,  and  sold  to  the  Ishmaelites, 
it  seemed  a  rugged  path,  but  it  proved  to  be  the  highway 
to  Pharaoh's  favor.  When  Haman  erected  a  gallows  fifty 
cubits  high,  he  imagined  that  he  saw  Mordecai  hanging  on 
it,  but  he  was  hung  there  himself. 

Then,  again,  there  is  all  the  difference  in  the  world  be- 
tween mere  belief  and  conviction.  There  is  a  belief  which 
has  not  the  slightest  influence  over  man's  actions,  for  men 
scarcely  ever  act  from  opinions  to  which  they  have  given 
mere  theoretical  consent.  A  thief  believes  that  "honesty  is 
the  best  policy,"  but  he  does  not  live  up  to  this  truth.  That 
young  man  knows  he  will  injure  his  health  by  this  or  that 
practice.  He  will  acknowledge,  "I  know  smoking  hurts 
me;"  "I  am  aware  that  coffee  is  not  good  for  me;"  "I 
know  that  these  late  hours  and  dissipation  are  ruining 
me."  That  young  lady  will  acknowledge  that  many  of  the 
customs  she  follows  are  injurious ;  but  no  impression  is  made 
on  her  mind.  Such  persons  proceed  to  do  that  which,  when 
pain  and  pangs  torment,  and  coughs  rack  and  consume,  they 
bitterly  repent  of;  and  had  they  youth  and  health  again, 


DEBTS   OF   HONOR.  209 

with  their  experience  and  convictions,  they  would  scrupu- 
lously avoid  the  follies  and  indiscretions  of  life.  Draw  up  a 
set  of  propositions  on  which  half  a  million  of  people  are 
agreed,  and  nine  tenths  of  those  giving  their  assent  would 
violate  the  agreement  by  their  conduct.  All  agree  that  fresh 
air  is  necessary ;  exercise  is  necessary ;  moderation  in  eating 
and  drinking  is  necessary.  Now,  if  people  were  really  con- 
vinced of  these  facts,  their  conduct  would  show  it ;  but  they 
are  not  convinced,  nor  anything  like  it.  It  is  often  difficult 
to  induce  men  to  acknowledge  their  conviction  of  the  most 
obvious  and  admitted  truths,  even  if  their  own  welfare 
depends  upon  acting  on  these  truths. 

How  often,  too,  does  the  "  father  of  lies  "  deck  his  own 
offspring  in  the  garb  of  innocence.  How  many  terms  we  use 
which  are  untrue !  An  "  affair  of  honor "  means  a  man's 
being  compelled  against  his  own  conscience  to  risk  his  life 
and  that  of  another  by  a  mean,  cowardly  fear  of  the  world's 
opinion.  "  Debts  of  honor  "  mean  that  a  man  must  sell  his 
coat,  if  necessary,  to  pay  a  loss  at  the  gaming-table  when 
he  would  not,  if  he  could,  pay  his  washerwoman.  "  Inno- 
cent amusements"  often  mean  pleasures  which  derive  their 
piquancy  from  not  being  innocent.  "  A  good  fellow  "  often 
means  a  wild,  headstrong  character  who  seems  bent  on  his  own 
destruction.  "  A  smart  fellow  "  often  means  a  dishonest  one, 
like  the  man  who  was  employed  in  collecting  a  bill  of  one 
hundred  dollars  from  an  obstinate  debtor,  his  employer 
offering  him  half  if  he  could  collect  the  bill.  Some  weeks 
after,  he  asked  him  how  he  succeeded.  "  Lookee  here  ! "  he 
exclaimed,  "  I  had  considerable  luck  with  that  bill  of  yourn. 
You  see  I  stuck  tew  him  like  a  dog  tew  a  root,  but  for  the 
first  week  or  two  'twarn't  no  use,  not  a  bit.  If  he  was  at 
home,  he  was  short ;  if  he  was  n't  at  home,  I  got  no  satisfac- 
tion. By  and  by,  says  I,  arter  going  sixteen  times,  4 1  '11  fix 


210 


THEFT  OR  SMARTNESS? 


ye,'  so  I  sot  down  on  the  door-step,  and  sot,  and  sot,  all  day 
and  evenin',  and  began  early  next  day,  and  about  ten  o'clock 
he  gin  it  up.  He  paid  me  my  half,  and  I  gin  up  the  note." 

Another  story  of  the  same  kind  is  related  of  a  traveller 
who  stopped  in  a  diligence  at  Brussels,  and,  being  hungry, 
was  desirious  of  obtaining  a  piece  of  cherry  pie,  but  was 
afraid  the  vehicle  would  drive  off  and  leave  him.  He  called 
to  an  urchin  in  the  streets,  "  Here,  go  and  get  me  a  piece  of 

cherry  pie,  and  here's  money 
enough  to  buy  yourself  a  piece." 
Presently  the  boy  came  back,  eat- 
ing his  pie  with  great  relish,  and 
returned  one  of  the  pieces  of 
money,  with  the  remark,  "The 
man  didn't  have  only  one 
^  piece,  so  I  bought  that  with 
the  money  you  gave  me."  I 
suppose  if  you  entrusted  a 
basket  of  peaches  or  pears,  or 
a  box  of  oranges,  to  an  express 
carrier,  and  he  ate  the  best  of 
your  fruit  while  in  transit, 
some  might  call  him  a  smart 
fellow;  I  should  call  him  a  thief.  Not  that  fruit  is  ever 
stolen  in  transit,  although  I  have  heard  people  complain  at 
the  shrinkage  of  fruit  during  a  passage  of  a  few  miles  by 
rail ;  but  then  fruit  will  shrink. 

How  absurd  sentences  may  be  made  by  false  construction 
or  punctuation.  A  man  who  was  suddenly  taken  sick,  "  has- 
tened home  while  every  means  for  his  recovery  were  resorted 
to.  In  spite  of  all  their  efforts  he  died  in  the  triumphs  of 
the  Christian  religion."  Or  this,  "A  man  was  killed  by  a 
railroad  car  running  into  Boston,  supposed  to  be  deaf." 


I  SOT,    AND   SOT.' 


LITERARY  ABSURDITIES.  211 

A  man  writes :  "  We  have  decided  to  erect  a  school-house 
large  enough  to  accommodate  five  hundred  scholars  five 
stories  high."  An  old  edition  of  a  geography  has  this: 
"Albany  has  four  hundred  dwelling-houses,  and  two  thou- 
sand four  hundred  inhabitants,  all  standing  with  their  gable- 
ends  to  the  street."  On  a  certain  railway  the  following  lumi- 
nous direction  was  printed :  "  Hereafter,  when  trains  moving 
in  an  opposite  direction  are  approaching  each  other  on  sepa- 
rate lines,  conductors  and  engineers  will  be  requested  to 
bring  their  respective  trains  to  a  dead  halt  before  the  point 
of  meeting,  and  be  careful  not  to  proceed  till  each  train  has 
passed  the  other."  A  steamboat  captain,  advertising  an 
excursion,  says:  "Tickets  twenty-five  cents;  children  half 
price,  to  be  had  at  the  office."  Coroner's  verdict:  "That  A. 
B.  came  to  his  death  by  excessive  drinking,  producing  apo- 
plexy in  the  minds  of  the  jury."  A  hotel  was  thus  adver- 
tised :  "  This  hotel  will  be  kept  by  the  widow  of  the  former 
landlord,  Mr.  Brown,  who  died  last  summer  on  a  new  and 
improved  plan."  Wanted,  "A  saddle  horse  for  a  lady  weigh- 
ing about  nine  hundred  and  fifty  pounds."  An  Iowa  editor 
says:  "We  have  received  a  basket  of  fine  grapes  from  our 
friend  W,  for  which  he  will  please  accept  our  compliments, 
some  of  which  are  nearly  two  inches  in  diameter."  "  Board 
may  be  had  at  No.  4  Pearl  Street  for  two  gentlemen  with  gas." 

Over  a  bridge  at  Athens,  Ga.,  is  the  following:  "Any 
person  driving  over  this  bridge  in  a  pace  faster  than  a  walk, 
shall,  if  a  white  man,  be  fined  five  dollars,  and  if  a  negro, 
receive  twenty-five  lashes,  half  the  penalty  to  be  bestowed  on 
the  informer."  A  newspaper  contained  this :  "  We  have  two 
schoolrooms  sufficiently  large  to  accommodate  three  hundred 
pupils  one  above  another."  Another  newspaper,  in  describ- 
ing the  doings  of  a  convention  at  Cleveland,  said:  "The 
procession  was  very  fine  and  nearly  two  miles  long,  as  was 
also  the  prayer  of  Dr.  Perry,  the  chaplain." 


212 


UNFORTUNATE  MR.   LONG. 


Sometimes  men  will  gain  their  ends  by  what  is  called  a 
pleasant  fiction,  and  I  do  not  know  that  there  is  any  moral 

wrong  committed,  if  there 
is  no  intention  to  deceive. 
An  old  minister,  who  was 
very  much  opposed  to  the 
introduction  of  a  bass-viol 
into  church,  was  in  the  midst 
of  his  sermon,  when  a  bull 
that  had  escaped  from  the 
pasture  stopped  in  front  of 
the  church  and  began  to 
bellow.  The  doctor  paused, 
and  looking  up  into  the 
singers'  seats,  said :  "  I  would 
thank  the  musicians  not  to 
ME.  LONG'S  ACCUSER.  tune  their  instruments  dur- 

ing the  sermon."  In  another  minute  "  Boo  !  "  went  the  bull. 
"  I  really  wish  the  singers  would  not  tune  their  instruments 
while  I  am  preaching ;  it  annoys  me 
very  much."  "  Boo ! "  went  the  bull 
the  third  time.  "I  have  twice  re- 
quested the  musicians  in  the  gallery 
not  to  tune  their  instruments  during 
sermon  time.  I  now  particularly  re- 
quest Mr.  Long  to  desist  from  tuning  // 
his  big  fiddle  while  I  am  preaching."  • 
Up  jumped  Mr.  Long,  "  It  is  n't  me  ; 
it 's  that  confounded  bull."  The  big 
fiddle  was  never  heard  again  in  that 
church.  This  Mr.  Long  was  some- 
what matter-of-fact,  like  the  old  lady  who,  when  complaining 
of  rheumatism,  was  asked  if  she  had  ever  tried  electricity  for 


STRUCK  BY  LIGHTNING.  213 

it.  "  Law,  yes,"  said  she,  "  I  was  struck  with  lightning  once, 
and  it  did  n't  do  me  a  bit  of  good." 

Again,  there  is  truth  often  in  an  apparent  contradiction, 
as  when  the  Irishman  in  the  House  of  Commons  remarked  of 
the  French  people  that  they  were  so  restless  they  would  never 
be  at  peace  till  they  were  engaged  in  another  war.  Or  truth 
may  be  conveyed  when  there  is  no  intention.  A  Frenchman, 
when  asked  if  he  loved  dogs,  said :  "  Oui !  I  love  dogs  and 
cats  and  horses  and  cows,  and  I  do  love  everyting  zat  is 
beastly." 

We  hear  a  great  deal  said  of  woman's  rights  and  woman's 
wrongs,  of  woman's  mission,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
I  believe  in  woman's  rights;  but  what  are  they?  Are  there 
not  false  ideas  current  in  reference  to  woman  and  her  rightful 
position  ?  Pardon  me  if  I  introduce  here  a  few  words  about 
woman ;  and  I  will,  with  your  permission,  take  you  into  the 
garden  of  Eden.  "  And  the  Lord  God  took  the  man  and  put 
him  into  the  garden  of  Eden  to  dress  it  and  to  keep  it."  We 
have  here  a  human  being  as  perfect  as  God  could  make,  with 
mental  and  moral  powers  fresh  from  the  hand  of  his  Creator, 
with  a  perfect  and  holy  body.  God  had  planted  the  garden 
for  him  to  live  in.  Flowers,  trees,  shrubs,  were  of  divine 
choice;  every  bower,  and  walk,  and  lawn  was  planned  by 
divine  wisdom.  What  a  garden  must  Paradise  have  been  ! 
The  shady  grove,  the  forest,  the  hill  and  vale,  the  rose  of 
Sharon  and  lily  of  the  valley,  were  perfect.  There  was  no 
alloy,  not  a  care  to  distract,  not  an  object  disagreeable  to 
the  man  with  powers  in  perfection  to  enjoy,  fully  enjoy. 
And  yet  his  solitary  condition  is  the  only  thing  in  Paradise 
which  Jehovah  pronounced  not  good.  He  looked  on  every- 
thing else  and  behold  it  was  very  good,  but,  "  It  is  not  good 
that  the  man  should  be  alone  ;  I  will  make  him  an  help  meet 
for  him."  Imagine  Adam  in  Paradise  ;  everything  to  please  the 


214  WOMAN'S  POSITION  AND  KANK. 

eye,  and  charm  the  ear,  and  minister  to  a  pure  taste.  If  ever 
there  was  a  being  of  whom  it  could  be  said,  "  It  is  good  for 
him  to  be  alone,"  that  being  was  Adam,  and  yet  "  It  is  not 
good  that  the  man  should  be  alone ;  I  will  make  him  an  help 
meet  for  him."  The  creation  was  incomplete  without  woman. 

If  God  has  attached  such  importance  to  female  influence 
as  to  pronounce  the  Eden  of  his  own  planting  a  solitary 
abode  until  Eve  inhabited  it,  shall  not  we  attach  importance 
to  the  fact  sufficient  to  assert  the  high  character  of  her 
destiny,  and  qualify  her  to  fulfil  the  station  allotted  her  by 
Divine  Providence  as  man's  helpmate?  We  must  under- 
stand "  helpmate  "  as  a  help  of  equal  rank  and  corresponding 
dignity  with  man.  There  are  thousands  of  men  who 
imagine  that  women  are  created  merely  to  flirt  with,  to 
amuse  them  when  young,  to  be  petted  and  caressed  and 
played  with,  and  by  and  by  to  cook  their  food,  look  after 
the  household  affairs,  and  gratify  their  wants  and  wishes. 
Helpmates,  with  such,  are  only  a  superior  order  of  domestic 
animals  rather  than  man's  intellectual  and  moral  associate,  a 
help  meet  for  the  rank  and  dignity  of  man. 

Burns  says  that  Nature  tried  her  'prentice  hand  on  man 
before  venturing  on  the  finer  task  of  fashioning  woman ;  but 
men  in  general  are  slow  to  admit  woman  even  to  an  equality 
with  themselves,  and  the  prevalent  opinion  certainly  is  that 
women  are  inferior  in  point  of  intellect.  We  cannot  come 
to  a  decision  on  such  a  question  until  the  position  of  women 
in  society  is  such  as  to  give  fair  play  to  their  capabilities. 
Take  a  class  of  boys  and  girls  learning  the  same  lessons  or 
studying  the  same  subject;  you  never  find  girls  inferior 
to  the  boys.  Their  memories  are  as  strong,  their  per- 
ceptions as  clear,  and  their  understandings  are  as  vigor- 
ous. They  learn  as  fast,  and  as  easily  comprehend  what 
they  are  taught.  They  make  as  rapid  progress  in  arith- 


EQUALITY   OF  BOYS  AND   GIRLS.  215 

metic,  grammar,  languages,  and  history.  Many  teachers 
give  it  as  their  opinion  that  you  can  often  make  girls 
understand  a  difficult  subject  better  than  boys,  and  I 
believe  that  experiment  and  observation  can  detect  no 
inferiority,  to  say  the  least,  in  the  minds  of  the  weaker 
vessel  during  infancy,  childhood,  or  youth. 

But  let  the  woman  grow  up  with  the  idea  that  —  as  the 
boy  said  —  while  "the  chief  end  of  man  is  to  glorify  God 
and  enjoy  Him  forever,  the  chief  end  of  woman  is  to  get 
married ; "  that  her  sole  object  is  to  look  out  for  a  suitable 
match,  to  lay  plans  or  traps  to  catch  an  eligible  husband ; 
that  she  needs  no  insight  into  science ;  that  to  be  literary 
is  to  be  blue ;  that  she  is  to  have  no  vocation  in  which  the 
cultivation  of  her  intellectual  power  is  necessary ;  that  if  she 
is  too  learned  she  will  frighten  away  that  very  polite  and 
agreeable  young  man  who  intends  never  to  marry  a  woman 
who  knows  more  than  he  does;  that  she  must  contract  her 
intellect  to  the  dimensions  of  his ;  that  all  the  education  and 
training  will  be  of  no  use  when  she  is  married;  that  she 
will  forget  her  French  when  she  is  married ;  that  she  will 
have  no  time  for  music  when  she  is  married ;  no  necessity  for 
natural  philosophy  when  she  is  married  ;  and  the  education 
which  is  to  elevate  her  will  be  pursued  with  a  listlessness 
and  apathy  that  always  fall  on  man  or  woman  engaged  in 
any  pursuit  of  which  they  can  say,  "  What 's  the  use  ?  " 

I  might  give  a  list  of  illustrious  women  who  have  demon- 
strated that  woman's  mental  inferiority  is  a  mere  fiction. 
We  have  the  publications  of  women  on  history,  natural 
philosophy,  poetry,  religion,  and  fiction,  that  will  bear  com- 
parison with  the  general  literature  of  the  other  sex.  The 
wives  of  missionaries  find  no  greater  difficulty  than  their 
husbands  do  in  acquiring  the  language  of  the  people  among 
whom  they  labor.  Many  women  are  distinguished  botanists, 


216  MY  OPINION  OF  WOMAN'S  RIGHTS. 

conchologists,  and  geologists ;  their  collections,  specimens, 
and  cabinets  are  quite  equal  to  those'  of  the  other  sex. 
Jane  Taylor  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  divinity.  Had 
Hannah  More  not  been  a  woman,  she  might  have  had  her 
B.A.,  M.A.,  D.D.,  or  LL.D.  Walter  Scott  has  given  strong 
testimony  to  his  high  appreciation  of  Joanna  Baillie.  I 
might  multiply  cases  and  weary  you  with  the  catalogue. 

Oh,  but  —  well,  but ;  but  what  ?  Why,  women  have  not 
the  application  of  men.  How  rarely  does  a  woman  give  up 
when  she  is  determined,  and  how  seldom  does  she  fail.  How 
many  a  noble  enterprise  would  have  been  abandoned  but  for 
the  firmness  of  woman.  Often  her  zeal  is  quickened  and  her 
diligence  doubled  by  obstacles.  I  hold  that  woman  is  capa- 
ble of  being  a  helpmate  corresponding  to  the  nobility  of  man. 
In  sensibility  she  is  his  superior,  and  the  great  requisite 
is  that  her  intelligence  and  sympathy  should  mutually 
influence  each  other;  intelligence  and  moral  principle  must 
be  blended  with  sensibility  to  make  woman  what  God 
designed  her  to  be. 

I  am  not  an  advocate  of  woman's  rights  according  to  the 
theory  of  strong-minded  women,  as  I  have  said  before.  I 
have  very  little  sympathy  with  what  are  called  strong- 
minded  women,  who  would  thrust  woman  out  of  her  sphere, 
and  force  her  to  occupy  a  position  for  which  she  is  not 
qualified  in  any  respect.  Woman  in  her  sphere  is  all-power- 
ful, but  dress  her  in  male  attire,  let  her  unsex  herself,  and 
sacrifice  woman's  softness,  tenderness,  and  modesty  to  an 
insane  desire  for  woman's  rights,  and  she  loses  her  influence 
for  good.  I  dislike  to  see  women  strutting  about  in  Bloomer 
costume,  men's  jackets,  and  standing  collars,  as  if  they  could 
not  assert  their  rights  without  making  themselves  ridiculous. 

Women  have  work  to  do,  and  every  woman  who  has  force 
of  character  enough  to  conceive  any  rational  enterprise  of 


AN  ERRAND   OF   MERCY. 


217 


benevolence  is  sure  to  carry  it  through.  When  Elizabeth 
Fry  and  her  noble  helpers  first  entered  the  cell  where  a 
wild,  half-savage  looking  crew  of  women  were  mustered,  the 
sheriff  said,  "Ladies,  you  see  your  materials."  A  lady  who 
accompanied  her  said,  "  I  felt  as  if  I  were  going  into  a  den  of 
wild  beasts,  and  shuddered  as  the  door  was  closed  upon  me," 
yet  the  brave,  gentle-hearted  leader  was  left  alone  with  them 


ur  _. , 


THE   PRISON   VISITORS. 


for  hours,  and  such  was  the  effect  produced  that  the  "  New- 
gate ladies,"  as  they  were  called,  became  advisers  at  the 
Home  Office  in  the  matter  of  prisons  and  convict-ships. 
When  Florence  Nightingale,  at  Scutari,  wanted  blankets 
for  the  poor,  sick  soldiers,  she  was  told  that  they  could  not 
be  obtained  without  an  order  from  some  official,  signed  and 
countersigned.  She  cut  the  red  tape  by  ordering  the  doors 
to  be  broken  open  on  her  own  responsibility,  and  the  blankets 

14 


218  UNFAIR  ADVANTAGES. 

were  appropriated  by  the  poor,  wounded  men.  Clara  Barton 
and  scores  of  noble  women  in  our  own  country  devoted  years 
of  unwearied  devotion  in  ministering  to  our  brave  soldiers. 

Some  men  have  the  faculty  of  obtaining  their  ends  by 
taking  advantage  of  accidents,  forgetting  that  truth  cannot 
be  affected  by  contingencies-;  and  they  often  obtain  a  tempo- 
rary triumph,  although  for  the  moment  they  may  seem  to 


A  UNANIMOUS   VOTE. 


have  achieved  their  purpose.  And  the  truth  is  no  more 
revealed  than  when,  on  board  a  canal-boat,  a  company  of 
politicians  stood  on  the  deck,  highly  excited  in  a  political 
discussion  as  to  the  coming  presidential  election.  They 
were  approaching  a  low  bridge,  when  the  steersman  called 
out  "  Bridge,  bridge  !  "  But  they  were  so  absorbed  in  their 
discussion  that  no  one  heard  the  warning,  except  one  man, 
who  took  advantage  of  it  to  cry  out,  "  Look  here !  let 's  take 


THE   POWER  OF   FLATTERY.  219 

a  vote ;  all  in  favor  of  Martin  Van  Buren,  stoop ;  all  opposed 
stand  up."  The  Van  Burenites  ducked  their  heads,  and  all 
the  others  were  knocked  down  —  a  unanimous  vote  for  Mar- 
tin Van  Buren ! 

An  assent  to  our  assertion  is  sometimes  not  very  pleasant. 
I  suppose  the  lady  at  the  boarding-house  was  a  little  annoyed 
at  the  coolness  of  the  boarder  who  generally  managed  to  con- 
sume his  three  dollars'  worth  in  about  four  days,  and  who  was 
very  fond  of  butter,  and  ate  it  freely.  The  poor  woman  at 
last  said,  "  Mr.  Short  do  you  know  that  that  butter  you  are 
eating  so  freely  cost  sixty  cents  a  pound."  "Ah,  did  it?" 
taking  another  large  slice,  and  rolling  it  in  his  mouth  with 
great  relish,  "  did  it  ?  well,  I  should  say  that  that  butter  was 
worth  sixty  cents  a  pound." 

Compliment  has  been  denned  as  implying  something  not 
entirely  to  be  credited.  We  all  like  smooth  words.  We  see 
ourselves  in  our  glass,  and  although  we  may  be  old  and  plain, 
yet  there  is  a  pleasant  satisfaction  in  being  told  that  we 
are  young  and  handsome,  and  all  are  more  or  less  open  to  this 
form  of  compliment.  But  there  are  people  to  whom  anything 
can  be  said  with  a  good  chance  of  being  believed,  who 
see  no  incongruity  between  their  deserts  and  the  highest 
praise,  and  whose  vanity  seems  to  be  a  vast  magnifying  and 
embellishing  power.  How  easily  and  pleasantly  we  are  flat- 
tered for  qualities  we  do  not  possess.  In  truth,  one  can 
flatter  a  man  more  by  telling  him  he  can  do  things  well  that 
he  cannot  do  at  all,  than  by  telling  him  he  can  do  things 
well  for  which  he  has  specially  qualified  himself.  Take 
a  deacon  of  a  church,  who  is  a  very  good  bootmaker,  and  tell 
him  he  can  preach  a  better  sermon  than  his  minister,  and  he 
is  better  pleased  than  if  you  tell  him  he  can  make  a  better 
boot  than  anyone  in  the  neighborhood.  Tell  a  man  whose 
legs  on  horseback  look  like  a  pair  of  compasses,  and  whose 


220 


HOW  TO  CHOOSE  A  HUSBAND. 


every  nerve  is  strained  by  the  exertion  of  an  hour's  riding, 
that  he  is  an  easy  rider,  and,  though  aching  in  every  limb, 
very  little  persuasion  will  be  required  to  induce  him  to  re- 
mount. 

There  are  various  judgments  by  different  individuals  of 
what  is  sensible  in  a  man.  Leslie  tells  a  story  of  a  captain 
of  a  packet-ship,  who  often  had  ladies  placed  under  his 
charge  for  the  passage,  and  who  was 


LOVE'S   TEST. — THE   MEN    WHO    JUMPED. 


THE    MAN    WHO    DID 
NOT   JUMP. 


sometimes  consult- 
ed in  love  affairs 
that  occurred  on 
the  voyage.  On 
one  occasion,  a 
lady  who  was  very 
attractive  received  particular  attentions  from  three  young 
gentlemen,  and  consulted  the  captain  as  to  which  she  should 
encourage.  "  Well,  you  come  on  deck  some  calm  day,  and 
I  will  have  a  boat  lowered,  and  you  shall  jump  overboard. 
I  '11  take  care  of  you,  and  see  which  of  them  will  jump 
after  you."  She  did  so,  jumped  overboard,  and  two  of  them 
leaped  into  the  sea.  Here  was  another  difficulty ;  which  of 
the  two  should  she  encourage  ?  She  consulted  the  captain. 


EXAGGERATION.  221 

His  advice  was,  "  Take  the  one  that  did  not  jump,  he 's  the 
most  sensible  man  of  the  three." 

Then  there  is  the  exaggeration  in  speech  that  is  not  so 
harmless  in  its  effect;  such  as,  "the  place  was  crowded  to 
suffocation ; "  "I  had  the  headache,  I  thought  I  should  have 
died ; "  "I  was  up  to  my  knees  in  mud ; "  "I  'd  give  the 
world  to  hear  Jenny  Lind."  Now  do  not  call  me  fanatical 
and  puritanical  if  I  say  that  the  practice  of  expressing  our- 
selves in  an  inflated  and  thoughtless  way  is  more  mischievous 
than  we  may  be  aware  of.  It  may  lead  us  to  sacrifice  truth; 
the  purity  of  truth  may  be  sullied ;  or  the  standard  •  of 
integrity  lowered  by  incorrect  observations.  While  on  this 
point  let  me  go  a  little  further,  looking  at  the  matter  freely 
and  faithfully.  You  cannot  give  greater  offence  than  to  call 
a  man  a  liar.  How  many  young  men  would  shrink  from 
telling  a  dishonest  lie,  because  they  are  honest ;  or  a  boastful 
lie,  because  they  are  modest ;  or  a  malicious  lie,  because  they 
are  good-natured ;  and  yet  would  swerve  from  the  truth  and 
tell  a  lie  which  they  considered  perfectly  innocent.  Think- 
ing that  there  is  no  harm  in  a  simple  falsehood,  are  they  not, 
though  honest,  modest  and  good-natured,  liars  ?  and  is  the 
truth  in  them  ?  A  man  should  value  truth  for  its  own  sake. 
Once  undermine  the  reverence  for  truth,  and  the  vice  of 
lying  may  increase  by  exercise,  until,  by  and  by,  one  may 
spurn  the  bonds  that  truth  would  lay  upon  his  tongue,  and 
go  to  the  widest  extent  of  his  invention  and  the  utmost 
stretch  of  his  imagination.  Let  not  our  good-humor  prevent 
us  from  giving  right  names  to  wrong  things.  Begging  the 
question  is  cowardly,  and  judgment  is  perverted  by  calling 
evil  good.  What,  must  I  tell  the  truth  if  it  hurts  the  feel- 
ings of  another?  Unpleasant  truths  need  not  always  be 
told ;  men  who  always  blurt  out  unwelcome  truths  are  offen- 
sive, and  a  lie  may  be  told  with  the  kindest  motives;  but 


222  LIVING  AN  AIMLESS  LIFE. 

there  are  cases  in  which  you  must  tell  either  the  truth  or  a 
lie.  You  are  not  responsible  for  consequences  or  results. 
Do  right  and  leave  the  consequences  with  Him  who  is  truth, 
and  loves  and  guards  his  own.  If  we  do  evil  that  good  may 
come,  we  take  the  matter  out  of  His  hands  into  our  own. 
Direct  falsehood,  under  any  circumstances,  I  consider  to  be 
wrong,  though  it  may  involve  no  other  sin  but  itself.  There 
is  an  uprightness  of  speech  as  well  as  of  action  that  we 
should  strive  to  attain.  Love  the  truth,  follow  the  truth, 
and  practice  truth  in  word,  thought,  and  deed. 

How  many  men's  lives  run  to  waste,  not  because  the  disv 
position  is  intensely  wicked,  but  because  there  is  no  settled 
purpose  to  live  right;  not  because  the  mind  is  preoccupied 
by  bad  intention,  but  because  it  is  unoccupied  by  any  inten- 
tion at  all.  Without  purpose,  they  begin  life ;  they  plough  a 
little,  sow  a  little,  but  reap  no  harvest.  They  pay  a  price, 
but  secure  no  purchase ;  letting  the  spirit  of  achievement  die, 
they  become  drones  in  the  hive  of  society  ;  with  a  man's 
faculty  for  enjoyment,  improvement,  and  usefulness,  they 
fritter  away  their  energies,  become  morbidly  miserable  them- 
selves, do  no  good  to  others,  and  become  as  disgusted  with 
life  as  the  rich  man  who  committed  suicide,  leaving  a  paper 
on  which  he  had  written,  "I  die  because  I  am  weary  of 
living  to  eat,  drink,  and  sleep,"  —  or  settle  down  into  the 
selfish,  useless  man  of  the  world,  content,  after  their  poor, 
miserable  fashion  to  be,  till  death  thrills  them  into  a  wakeful 
consciousness  of  what  they  are,  what  they  have  been,  what 
they  might  have  been.  They  have  lived  well  for  themselves, 
have  kept  good  society,  furnished  a  good  table,  and  held  high 
state,  but  no  blessing  comes  upon  them  from  anyone  whom 
they  have  saved.  They  present  to  the  Father  no  soul  saved 
by  their  influence  as  a  token  and  result  of  work  in  his  vine- 
yard, but  all  is  a  blank,  their  life  is  a  sham,  and  their  passing 


A  MELANCHOLY   SIGHT. 


223 


away  leaves  all  survivors  indifferent,  and  the  world  will  never 
miss  them ;  gone,  gone,  are  they  to  their  own  place. 

But  more  painful  is  the  wilful  wasting  and  squandering  of 
life,  health,  talent,  and  energy  which  God  has  given  to  glorify 
him  and  bless  the  world,  in  wicked,  sensual  gratifications. 

See  that  young  man,  rich 
in  all  that  might  make 
him  great,  with  robust  and 
vigorous  health,  and  even 
with  high  and  noble  am- 
bition, starting  in  that 
deceitful,  flowery  path  of 
sensual  delights,  chasing 
the  bubble  pleasure, 


AS  SHE  WAS   AND   AS   SHE  IS. 


breaking  through  every  restraint  that  the  law  of  God  would 
throw  around  him,  blasting  his  reputation,  stultifying  his 
intellect,  changing  the  image  of  God  into  the  stamp  of  the 
Devil's  die,  until  he  becomes  a  wreck.  See  that  battered  hulk 
lying  on  the  strand.  Once  she  was  a  fair  bark,  trim,  copper- 
fastened;  with  rigging  all  taut,  and  streamers  flying,  she 
walked  the  waters  like  a  thing  of  life.  Now  her  black,  broken 
ribs  stand  up  irregular  and  gaunt,  like  spectres  of  the  past ;  the 
waves  washing  through  her  gaping  seams,  and  wind  sighing 


224  TYPES   OF  MEN. 

through  her  rotten  rigging,  seem  to  sound  a  sad  requiem  of 
departed  days.  Do  you  not  feel  sad  as  you  gaze  upon  the 
ruin  of  man's  workmanship?  Oh,  how  unutterably  sad  to 
look  upon  the  wreck,  the  ruin  of  a  man,  a  being  fearfully 
and  wonderfully  made,  endowed  with  glorious  capacities  for 
all  that  is  noble  and  grand ;  the  tenement  shattered,  and  the 
tenant,  once  capable  of  serving  God,  now  stained,  defiled, 
driven  out  before  its  time,  where,  ah,  where?  God  know- 
eth.  Oh,  it  is  pitiful,  pitiful,  and,  God  forgive  us,  these 
wrecks  are  all  around  us;  these  ruins  lie  across  our  foot- 
path, wrecks  of  men,  ruins  of  men.  Oh,  that  every  young 
man  would  heed  the  solemn  injunction,  "My  son,  if  sinners 
entice  thee,  consent  thou  not." 

There  are  braggarts  and  blusterers  in  society,  but  there 
are  many  kind-hearted  souls  who  are  happy,  when  they  can 
make  others  so.  There  are  tattlers  and  busy-bodies ;  but  there 
are  silent,  reflecting  observers  of  men  and  things,  who  say  but 
little ;  but  when  they  speak,  it  is  as  an  oracle.  There  are  men 
who  wear  smiles  on  their  faces,  whose  hearts  are  unprincipled 
and  treacherous ;  but  there  are  true  friends  with  a  rough 
outside,  who  speak  with  their  hands  more  than  with  their 
tongues,  with  deeds  rather  than  words.  There  are  brutal, 
hard  men ;  but  there  are  many  loving  men,  who  act  as  a  balm 
to  the  rankling  wounds  of  humanity.  There  are  men  who 
are  full  of  gall  and  bitterness,  hateful,  and  hating  one 
another ;  but  there  are  compassionate  spirits  whose  "  charity 
thinketh  no  evil,  suffereth  long,  and  is  kind."  There  are 
thankless  repiners,  always  magnifying  their  little  troubles ; 
but  there  are  grateful  spirits  that,  come  good  or  ill,  always 
sing  of  mercy  ;  to  them  "  the  heavens  declare  the  glory  of 
God,"  and  "the  earth  is  full  of  his  goodness."  There  are 
proud  and  supercilious  sceptics  who  affect  to  pity  simple- 
minded  Christians ;  but,  thank  God,  there  are  men  and 


UNNOTICED   HEROES.  225 

women  who  set  a  value  on  his  word  above  all  earthly  things. 
That  is  the  stronghold  where  they  go  for  safety,  the  treasure- 
house  where  they  obtain  riches,  a  never-failing  source  of 
wisdom,  encouragement,  reproof,  and  correction. 

The  world's  estimate  of  men  is  not  generally  the  correct 
one  in  the  highest  sense.  How  many  real  heroes  pass  by 
unnoticed,  modest,  quiet,  unattractive,  and  unassuming ; 
the  gay  avoid  them  and  pass  them  by  with  a  sneer ;  only 
those  who  know  them  fully  appreciate  and  love  them.  They 
would  not  particularly  grace  a  drawing-room,  the  thoughtless 
throng  heeds  them  not ;  to  them  they  seem  stained,  marred. 
Why,  my  fine  gentleman,  these  marks  and  stains  are  hon- 
orable scars,  obtained  on  many  a  well-fought  field ;  they  have 
entered  the  conflict  of  life  with  brave,  true  hearts,  and  will 
be  at  last  ranked  among  those  who  have  overcome. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


IN   THE  TOILS  OF  THE  TEMPTER  —  CHARMED  UNTIL  CHAINED 
—  THE   BATTLE   OF   LIFE  —  A   STAINED   RECORD. 

The  Old  Lady  and  the  Haystack  —  Driving  Nails  in  One's  Own  Coffin  —  The 
Green-eyed,  Fiery-tongued  Serpent  —  Robbing  Birds'  Nests  —  Suspended 
in  Mid-air  —  A  Frightful  Position  —  Only  a  Single  Strand  Between  Life 
and  Death  —  A  Thrilling  Incident  —  Narrow  Escape  —  My  Frolic  With  a 
Child  —  A  Boy  Again  —  The  Drunken  Loafer  —  Look  on  This  Picture, 
Then  on  That  —  Youth  and  Old  Age  Side  by  Side  —  A  Picture  for  Young 
Men  —  Past,  Present,  and  Future  —  A  Physician's  Story  —  A  Pathetic 
Incident  —  Alone  —  A  Night  in  the  Cold  and  Dark  — A  Little  Girl's  Sad 
Story  —  The  Old  Lady's  Feelings  —  "  A  Certain-sort-of-Goneness  "  — 
Nearer  and  Nearer  to  the  End  —  A  Stained  Record  —  Life  is  What  You 
Choose  to  Make  it  —  "  Where  Are  Those  Dogs  Going  ?  "  —  Treasures  Laid 
up  Above  —  Life's  Battlefield  —  Honorable  Scars  —  A  Disgraced  Regiment 
Winning  Back  Their  Colors  —  Honor  Retrieved. 


HE  great  object  we  have  in 
view  is  to  stir  up  the  people 
to   do  something  against  the 
fearful  curse  of  intemperance. 
We  think  we  gain  one  great 
point   when    we    can    make 
them  acquainted,  in  some  cle- 
&  gree,  with  this  terrible  evil.     A  great 
many  persons  tell  us  that  they  see 
nothing  of  all  the  evils  we  describe. 
The  fact  is,  they  know  no  more  about 
the  evils   of  drunkenness   than   the 

old  lady  knew  of  the  scenery  through  which  she  passed  the 
first  time  she  ever  rode  in  a  railroad  car.  Some  one  said  to 
her,  "  Well,  madam,  what  did  you  see  ?  "  "  See  !  nothing  at 
all  but  a  haystack,  and  that  was  going  the  other  way ! "  We 

226 


THE  FASCINATION  OF  DRINK.  227 

want  to  show  people,  if  we  can,  the  terrible  evil  we  seek  to 
remove.  I  wish  I  could  lift  the  curtain  that  conceals  from 
their  view  the  secrets  of  this  awful  charnel-house.  That  ter- 
rible curse  of  drunkenness  !  the  mind  of  man  cannot  grasp  it 
in  its  wide  extent.  God  never  gave  a  man  an  imagination 
powerful  enough  to  conceive  it,  or  eloquence  sufficient  to 
illustrate  it  so  that  it  could  be  at  all  understood.  This  great 
curse  is  caused  by  one  thing,  and  only  by  that,  and  that  is 
the  drinking  of  intoxicating  liquor  as  a  beverage.  Therefore 
we  fight  the  liquor  because  that  is  the  cause  which  produces 
these  results. 

I  have  said  before,  and  I  say  again,  no  man  intends  to  be- 
come a  drunkard.  No  man  starts  with  the  intention  of  ruin- 
ing himself,  bringing  disgrace  upon  his  family,  staining  his 
reputation,  blasting  his  prospects,  destroying  his  manliness, 
and  ruining  himself,  body  and  soul.  No  man  intends  to  do 
it.  But  the  fearfully  deceptive  influence  of  the  drink  is 
made  manifest  by  the  way  in  which  men  go  down  the  fatal 
sliding-scale,  inch  by  inch,  foot  by  foot,  to  utter  ruin. 

Oh,  the  fascination  of  the  drink !  How  great  its  fasci- 
nation over  men  who  are  overpowered  and  overruled  and 
overmastered  by  the  curse  of  this  appetite !  We  see  men 
to-day  destroying  themselves  by  it,  and  they  know  it.  Do  not 
tell  me  that  such  a  man  does  not  know  that  he  is  going  to  de- 
struction. He  knows  that  every  glass  he  takes  is  another  nail 
driven  and  clenched  in  his  coffin.  He  knows  it,  and  still  he 
proceeds.  Sometimes,  in  his  desperation,  he  wrestles  with  his 
enemy,  only  to  feel  his  own  weakness,  — wrestling  sometimes 
for  life,  with  the  serpent  twining  about  his  body,  twisting 
round  his  throat,  glaring  in  his  eyes  with  its  green  orbs,  and 
licking  his  lips  with  its  forked  fiery  tongue.  He  struggles 
hard,  and  comes  out  of  the  conflict  defeated. 

On  the  island  of  Hoy,  in  the  Orkneys,  the  inhabitants  earn 


228 


A  THRILLING  STORY. 


a  precarious  livelihood  by  robbing  the  birds  of  their  eggs. 
To  get  at  their  nests,  men  are  let  down  by  a  rope  from  a 
cliff  one  thousand  feet 
in  height,  and  when 
they  are  down  per- 
haps five  hundred  feet, 
the  men  at  the  top 
make  the  end  of  the 
rope  fast.  Each  man 
has  a  signal  cord. 
Then,  as  they  hang 
out  clear  of  the 
cliff,  they,  with  a 
swinging  motion, 
work  themselves 
toward  it.  By  and 
by  they  catch  hold 
of  some  jagged  rock 
or  a  root  or  shrub, 
and  there  they  hang 
in  mid-air,  and  fill 
bags  with  the  eggs 
of  the  birds. 

One  man,  s u s- 
pended  thus  between 
heaven  and  earth  by 
a  single  rope,  swung 
himself  into  a  crevice, 
and  was  busy  at  his 
work  when  he  was 
attacked  by  an  eagle.  The  eagle  came  at  him  with  full 
force,  with  wings  and  beak  and  talons.  The  man  swung 
out  into  the  air,  while  the  eagle  battered  him  with  its  wings 


"THE  STRANDS  BEGAN  TO  SNAP." 


THE  BOTTOMLESS   GULF.  229 

and  tore  at  him  with  its  beak  and  claws.  Holding  on  with 
one  hand,  the  man,  with  his  other  hand,  drew  his  long, 
sharp  knife,  and  made  a  desperate  blow  at  the  eagle ;  but  he 
missed  the  bird  and  cut  through  the  rope  by  which  he  was 
suspended,  all  but  a  few  strands,  and  these  began  rapidly  to 
untwist  and  the  threads  to  snap.  He  made  the  signal,  was 
hauled  up  to  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  and — just  saved.  But 
they  told  us  his  hair  had  become  white  during  that  awful 
experience. 

There  are  young  men  hanging  over  the  bottomless  gulf  by 
a  single  cord.  It  is  all  that  binds  them  to  life,  home,  hap- 
piness, and  heaven ;  it  is  all  that  holds  them.  Instead  of 
making  the  signal  to  be  hauled  up  to  the  edge,  they  are 
using  their  knives  in  cutting  away  every  strand  of  the  rope. 
Thousands  of  them  are  dropping  into  the  awful  gulf,  utterly 
ruined  for  time  and  eternity  by  their  own  act  and  by  their 
own  purpose,  fascinated  by  the  power  of  the  drink. 

Let  us  put  aside  pauperism,  wretchedness,  suffering,  and 
loss  of  life,  as  minor  matters.  I  place  the  loss  of  life  among 
minor  matters,  for  what  if  drink  should  destroy  this  body, 
this  tenement  of  my  soul?  If  it  leaves  the  tenant  untouched 
it  is  a  small  matter.  Should  drunkenness  destroy  the  casket 
and  leave  the  gem,  what  matter?  An  old  divine  has  said,  "I 
care  but  little  where  the  bark  of  my  flesh  is  wrecked,  if  I  can 
but  save  the  passenger."  But  drunkenness  destroys  both  the 
casket  and  the  gem,  it  wrecks  the  bark  and  engulfs  the  pas- 
senger, ruins  both  body  and  soul,  blasting  everything  that  is 
noble  and  glorious  and  grand  and  beautiful  and  manly  and 
godlike  in  man.  Look  at  its  effects ;  contemplate  it  in  its 
awful  reality  as  crushing  humanity  down  to  the  level  of  the 
beasts.  Do  we  treat  the  drunkard  as  a  man?  No.  Do  we 
feel  for  him  as  a  man?  No.  Do  we  think  of  him  as  a  man  ? 
No.  We  see  him  thrust  out  with  the  stench  and  filth  of  the 


230  LOWER  THAN   THE  BEASTS. 

grogshop ;  we  see  arid  think  of  him  as  drink  has  made  him, 
and  we  are  apt  to  conclude  that  he  was  so  always.  Some- 
times it  is  a  hard  matter  to  look  upon  a  blear-eyed,  bloated 
drunkard  as  made  in  God's  image,  for  it  seems  as  if  debauch- 
ery had  been  effacing  that  image,  and  had  pretty  well  suc- 
ceeded. His  intellectual  nature  has  become  a  devil,  and  his 
animal  nature  has  become  a  beast.  He  is  not  like  one  occu- 
pying the  same  scale  of  being,  a  member  of  the  same  family. 
With  his  blotched  countenance  and  the  gibbering  idiocy  of  his 
expression,  we  ask,  What  is  this  thing?  Can  it  be  a  man 
made  in  the  image  of  God?  Yea,  a  man,  our  brother. 

Some  time  ago,  in  the  grounds  of  a  friend,  I  was  playing 
with  a  beautiful  boy.  We  enjoyed  a  frolic  in  the  garden  for 
awhile,  I  making  of  myself  a  sort  of  mimic  wheelbarrow,  and 
carrying  him  to  and  fro  upon  my  back.  You  would  scarce 
have  been  able  to  tell  whether  the  little  boy  or  the  big  boy 
was  the  more  delighted  with  the  fun,  for  I  loved  him  and  I 
knew  that  he  loved  me.  While  we  were  so  engaged,  the 
gardener  told  us,  that  in  a  field  at  the  foot  of  the  lawn,  a  man 
was  lying  on  the  grass,  very  drunk.  I  took  the  hand  of  my 
little  companion,  and  asked  him  to  go  with  me  and  look  at 
the  man.  There  lay  before  us  a  man  of  hoary  hairs  ;  his  hat 
near  him,  his  gray  locks  waving  with  the  wind.  With  one 
hand  he  had  seized  the  breast  of  his  coat  and  vest  as  if  it 
were  with  the  grasp  of  death,  and  the  other  was  twisted  up 
behind  him  ;  his  lips  were  convulsively  moving,  and  with  his 
breath  there  came  a  stench  which  polluted  the  pure  air  of 
heaven.  There  lay  the  form  of  a  man,  his  face  upturned  to 
the  bright  blue  sky ;  the  sunbeam  that  warmed  and  cheered 
and  illumed  us,  playing  unfelt  and  unenjoyed  upon  his 
bloated,  greasy  face.  There  he  lay  as  drink  made  him  ;  and, 
as  I  gazed  on  him  in  his  degradation,  the  very  horses  and 
cows  looked  far  nobler  than  he. 


PAST,   PRESENT,   AND  FUTURE.  231 

As  I  looked  upon  the  poor  degraded  Avretch,  and  then 
upon  the  child  beside  me,  with  his  noble  brow,  his  beautiful 
blue  eyes,  his  rosy  cheeks,  his  pearly  teeth,  and  ruby  lips,  the 
perfect  picture  of  health,  peace,  and  innocence,  and  compared 
these  with  what  was  exhibited  by  the  miserable  being  before 
us;  as  I  looked  upon  the  man,  and  then  upon  the  child,  and 
felt  his  little  hand  convulsively  twitching  in  mine,  and  saw 
his  little  lips  grow  white,  and  his  eyes  fill  writh  tears  as  he 
gazed  upon  this  poor  drunkard,  —  oh,  then,  did  I  pray  God, 
in  my  heart  of  hearts,  to  give  me  an  everlasting  and  increas- 
ing capacity  to  hate  —  hate,  HATE  with  a  burning  hatred  — 
every  instrumentality  that  could  degrade  and  sink  the 
nobility  of  man  into  the  horrid  thing  that  lay  before  me. 

Young  men,  let  me  bring  before  you  a  vision.  Before  us 
stands  a  bright,  fair-haired,  beautiful  boy,  —  the  type,  the 
picture  of  health  and  beauty.  That  is  youth  ;  that  is  your 
past.  Another  figure  stands  before  us,  the  youth  grown  to 
the  man,  genius  flashing  from  his  eye ;  his  broad  brow 
denoting  intellectual  strength  as  he  claims  for  himself  power 
over  the  minds  of  his  fellow-men.  There  he  stands,  a  glor- 
ious being.  That  is  your  ideal.  Then  appears  a  trembling, 
wretched  thing,  fetters  on  his  limbs,  his  brow  seamed,  sensu- 
ality seated  on  his  swollen  lip,  the  image  of  God  marred. 
What  is  that?  Is  that  your  present?  Then  you  shall  see 
another  vision.  It  is  a  wretched,  emaciated  creature ;  you 
see  his  heart  is  all  on  fire  ;  the  worm  that  never  dies  has 
begun  its  fearful  gnawings.  What  is  that?  It  is  your 
future.  The  power  of  evil  habit  does  not  destroy  conscious- 
ness. The  curse,  to  the  man  who  is  going  down  step  by 
step,  is  the  remembrance  of  the  past.  All  the  bright  dreams 
of  his  imagination  are  vividly  before  him,  but  separated  from 
him  by  a  continent  of  grief  and  disappointment,  pain  of  body, 
and  fever  of  spirit.  Distant,  clear,  but  cold,  is  the  moon 


232  A  DREADFUL  CONDITION. 

that  shines  on  his  waking  agony  or  on  his  desperate  repose. 
He  has  been  the  slave  to  evil  habit ;  he  has  spent  his  life  and 
his  fortune,  sold  his  birthright.  And  what  has  he  obtained? 
Can  any  condition  be  more  dreadful  than  his,  with  ambition 
and  no  expectation  ;  desire  for  better  things,  but  no  hope ; 
with  pride,  but  no  freshness  of  feeling?  When  we  know 
there  are  so  many  men  wrecked  and  ruined  by  this  one 
agency,  and  especially  when  we  know  by  experience  some- 
thing of  its  power, —  can  we  sit  still  and  not  wage  an 
aggressive  war  upon  our  enemy  and  the  enemy  of  our  race 
and  country? 

There  is  no  power  on  earth  that  will  make  a  man  or  a 
woman  a  fiend  like  the  power  of  drink.  A  physician  told 
me  that  once,  when  he  was  employed  in  visiting  some  poor 
families,  he  found  a  girl,  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  an  intel- 
ligent little  creature,  ill  of  consumption.  He  knew  the  father 
and  mother  were  drinkers,  but  he  did  not  dream  they  would 
neglect  their  suffering  child.  The  physician  came  home 
very  late  one  night  after  a  hard  day's  work,  and  had  not  vis- 
ited his  little  patient.  He  felt  so  uneasy  all  night  about  her 
that,  early  next  morning,  a  bitter  cold  morning  he  went  to 
her  house.  There  he  found  the  little  creature  alone  in  a 
squalid  room,  sitting  by  an  empty  fireplace,  her  arms  tightly 
folded  round  her,  as  if  to  keep  her  little  shivering  frame  from 
falling  to  pieces,  racked,  as  it  was,  by  the  cough  from  which 
she  suffered. 

"  Elizabeth,  my  child,"  said  the  physician,  "  what  are  you 
doing  here?  Why  are  you  not  in  bed?"  "I  have  not  been 
to  bed,  sir." 

"  Have  you  not  been  to  bed  all  night  ?  "      "  No,  sir." 

"  Where  are  your  father  and  mother  ?  "  "  They  have 
gone  to  bed,  sir." 

"  Why  did  they  go  to  bed  and  leave  you  up  ?  "     "  Father 


A  PITIFUL  CASE. 


233 


brought  home  a  bottle  of  rum  last  night,  aud  they  drank 
it  and  went  to  bed." 

"And  have  you  been  sitting  here  all  night,  my  child?" 
"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Have  you  had  no  light  ?  "     "  No,  sir." 
"No  fire?"     "No,  sir." 

"Have  you 
been  sitting  all 
night  in  the 
cold  and  dark, 
alone?"  "Yes, 
sir." 

Think  of  the 
suffering  in  body 
and  mind  that 
little  girl  en- 
dured in  the 
long  hours  of 
that  bitter  win- 
try night,  sitting 
from  night  till 
morning,  in  a  bare  and  deso- 
late room,  ill,  no  fire,  no  light, 
and  without  sufficient  cloth- 
ing to  keep  her  frail  body 
warm.  And  there,  in  an  ad- 
joining room,  lay  her  father  and  mother  beastly  drunk.  I 
say,  then,  there  is  no  power  on  earth  that  will  make  a  man 
or  a  woman  a  devil  so  quickly  as  the  power  of  drink. 

Look  at  the  effects  of  drunkenness  upon  a  man.  God 
made  man  in  his  own  image ;  what  mars  that  image  and 
stamps  it  with  the  counterfeit  die  of  the  devil?  Drink  does 
it.  "  Man  by  nature  walks  erect  and  lifts  his  forehead  to  the 

15 


THE  PHYSICIAN'S  DISCOVERY. 


234  GHASTLY  WITNESSES. 

stars,"  and  he  is  crowned  lord  of  creation  :  what  breaks  his 
sceptre,  tears  his  crown  from  his  brow,  and  degrades  him 
below  the  level  of  the  beasts  ?  Drink  does  it.  What  sears 
his  heart,  and  dams  up  the  fountain  of  pure  and  holy  affec- 
tion ?  It  is  the  drink.  What  fills  our  almshouses  and  our 
jails?  What  hangs  yon  trembling  wretch  upon  the  gallows? 
It  is  the  drink.  And  we  might  almost  call  upon  the  tomb  to 
break  forth.  Ye  mouldering  victims,  wipe  the  crumbling 
grave-dust  from  your  brow ;  stalk  forth  in  your  tattered 
shrouds  and  bony  whiteness  to  testify  against  the  drink  ! 
Come,  come  from  the  gallows,  you  spirit-maddened  man- 
slayer,  grip  your  bloody  knife,  and  stalk  forth  to  testify 
against  it !  Crawl  from  the  slimy  ooze,  ye  drowned  drunk- 
ards, and  with  suffocation's  blue  and  livid  lips  speak  out 
against  the  drink.  Snap  your  burning  chains,  ye  denizens 
of  the  pit,  and  come  up,  sheeted  in  fire,  dripping  with  the 
flames  of  hell,  and  with  your  trumpet  tongues  testifying 
against  the  deep  "  damnation  of  the  drink." 

No  young  man  expects  that  anything  of  this  kind  will 
come  upon  him.  I  do  not  say  that  it  will,  but  I  want  young 
men  who  drink  to  test  this  matter.  Just  test  it.  A  man  in 
business  takes  account  of  his  stock,  does  he  not,  to  see  how 
he  stands  commercially?  The  captain  of  a  vessel  takes  his 
bearings,  and  makes  an  observation  to  know  where  he  is. 
Now,  young  man,  is  it  not  well  for  you  to  ascertain  precisely 
where  you  are,  and  where  you  stand  on  the  question  of 
drink  ?  Then  I  will  ask  you  this  question.  You  say  you 
have  no  appetite  for  the  drink.  I  say  to  you,  just  test  it. 
I  do  not  ask  you  to  sign  the  pledge.  I  do  not  ask  you  to 
become  a  teetotaler ;  but  I  ask  you  to  test  it  when  you  want 
a  glass  of  ale.  What  is  that  want?  It  is  a  want  created  by 
the  use  of  ale.  If  you  had  never  drunk  it,  you  would  never 
want  it.  It  is  not  a  natural  want.  A  boy  never  came  into 


AN  UNNATURAL  APPETITE.  235 

the  world  longing  for  a  glass  of  ale,  any  more  than  for  a 
quid  of  tobacco.  It  is  an  acquired  appetite.  Now  if  you 
desire  a  glass  of  ale,  as  many  of  you  will,  or  if  you  want  one 
to-morrow  morning,  all  I  ask  is  —  let  it  alone,  and  see  how 
much  you  want  it.  Some  of  you  will  begin  to  argue  the 
point :  "  Well,  I  am  one  of  those  who  cannot  do  without  a 
little ;  I  really  believe  it  is  necessary  for  my  constitution. 
I  feel,  as  the  old  lady  said,  'a  certain-sort-of-goneness  without 
it.'  It  is  always  upon  me."  Ah,  there  is  the  fallacy.  You 
say  you  have  no  appetite  for  it.  And  you  think  that  is  so, 
because  when  the  appetite  craves,  you  gratify  it  and  satisfy 
it  for  the  time  being.  By  and  by,  the  appetite  craves  again. 
Now  let  it  alone  till  you  do  not  feel  the  want  of  it  any  more, 
and  if  you  attempt  that,  some  of  you  will  find  you  have  a 
difficult  task  to  accomplish.  It  has  a  grip  upon  you,  and 
you  will  find  that  you  are  one  of  the  subjects  of  this  craving. 
I  will  ask  you  another  question.  Do  you  not  drink  more 
now  than  you  did  five  years  ago  ?  Do  you  not  take  a  glass 
of  ale  oftener  than  you  did  five  years  ago?  Are  you  not 
increasing  the  quantity  ?  Some  of  you  drink  twice  as  much 
as  you  did  five  years  ago,  and  you  know  it.  You  expect  to 
live  thirty  years,  or  thirty-five  years,  longer.  What  will  it 
be  if  you  double  your  quantity  every  five  years?  If  you 
drink  more  now  than  you  did  five  years  ago,  it  will  be  easier 
for  you  to  give  it  up  now  than  it  ever  will  be  again.  All  I 
ask  of  young  men  is  to  test  the  matter. 

There  are  those  of  us  who  have  come  out  of  the  fire,  who 
are  scarred  and  bruised,  who  will  never  be  what  we  might 
have  been  had  it  not  been  for  the  accursed  drink.  As  year 
after  year  rolls  on  and  brings  us  nearer  and  nearer  to  the 
end,  what  would  we  not  give  could  we  wipe  out  our  record ! 
Oh,  that  awful  record,  young  man  !  You  are  writing  a  new 
record  every  day.  You  begin  in  the  morning  with  a  clean 


236  WHAT  IS  YOUR  RECORD? 

page,  perfectly  clean,  and  at  night  it  is  smeared,  and  smudged, 
and  blotted,  and  then  you  hastily  turn  it  over  and  think  it  is 
gone.  No.  You  never  can  wipe  out  a  word  of  your  record ; 
you  never  can  blot  out  a  stain,  nor  erase  one.  No,  sir! 
You  are  making  an  ineffaceable  record.  What  a  grand 
thing  it  is  to  be  a  young  man,  with  all  of  life  before  you 
to  make  of  it  what  you  choose,  to  mould  it  as  you  will,  to 
make  it  just  what  you  please.  How  many  are  making  their 
life  a  desert,  when  it  might  be  a  garden ;  making  it  a  dreary, 
barren  waste  when  it  might  be  fruitful  in  good  works  and 
holy  influences,  stumbling,  blundering,  aimless,  almost  re- 
minding you  of  the  story  of  a  boy  walking  through  the 
streets  with  a  couple  of  dogs.  Some  one  said  to  him, 
"Where  are  those  dogs  going?"  "I  don't  know,"  was 
the  reply,  "they  have  come  in  by  the  coach  and  have  eaten 
their  directions."  These  men  positively  look  as  if  they  had 
drunk  their  directions  and  did  not  know  where  they  were 
going ;  and  their  appearance  would  be  absurd  if  it  were  not 
so  deplorable  to  see  them  groping  through  life  with  no  defi- 
nite purpose  or  fixed  principle  to  direct  their  course. 

Oh,  the  beginning !  So  many  go  into  ruin  with  all  of 
life  before  them.  You  are  like  a  switchman  on  the  rail- 
way. Here  comes  the  locomotive  and  the  train  of  cars 
freighted  with  human  life,  hopes,  and  happiness,  and  your 
hand  is  on  that  switch.  You  can  turn  that  train  on  the 
main  track,  you  can  turn  it  on  the  siding,  you  can  turn  it 
down  the  bank;  but  when  it  has  passed  by,  your  control 
over  it  has  gone  forever.  Never  will  you  have  another  such 
opportunity,  and  opportunities  are  passing  you  day  by  day, 
day  by  day.  By  and  by  you  will  say,  as  poor  Churchill  did 
on  his  death-bed,  "  All  gone ;  every  opportunity  lost ;  what 
a  fool  I  have  been ! " 

Young  man,  is  that  to  be  the  end  of  your  life  with  all  its 


THE  BATTLE   OF  LIFE.  237 

prospects  and  all  its  bright  hopes  ?  Now  let  me  tell  you  this 
one  thing :  ninety-nine  out  of  every  hundred  ruined  men  are 
ruined  by  strong  drink.  I  do  not  mean  ruined  financially, 
for  I  do  not  consider  that  any  ruin  at  all,  because,  when  a 
man  dies,  it  is  not  what  he  leaves  or  what  he  carries  with 
him,  but  what  is  laid  up  there  !  He  may  die  so  poor  that  the 
parish  may  have  to  bury  him,  but  yonder  is  the  crown  of  life 
"  to  him  that  over  come  th."  Now  I  say,  young  man,  is  that 
to  be  the  end  of  it  ?  Ninety-nine  out  of  every  hundred  men 
who  are  ruined  morally,  and  I  might  almost  say  physically, 
intellectually,  and  religiously,  are  ruined  by  the  use  of  drink. 
It  is  the  great  curse  of  this  country.  Then  what  shall  we 
do  ?  What  we  want  is  to  stir  up  the  people  to  move  in  this 
matter. 

We  want  you  to  help  us,  young  men.  It  may  cost 
something,  but  life  is  a  battlefield.  Yes,  it  is.  Oh,  I 
like  these  fights.  A  man  said  to  me  once,  "  I  never  fought 
a  battle  in  my  life."  Then  I  said,  "Well,  I  pity  you,  if, 
among  all  the  forces  for  evil  in  this  world,  none  of  them 
thought  you  worth  the  tackling."  There  are  some,  I  sup- 
pose, who  never  fight  battles,  —  quiet-tempered,  easy  going 
people,  very  sweet  children.  They  have  no  emotional  nature, 
no  strong  propensities ;  they  are  good,  negatively  good,  and 
when  they  reach  the  goal  they  are  without  a  mark,  smooth 
and  sleek.  And  you  praise  these  men.  "Ah,  that  is  the 
man  for  me ;  see  how  smoothly  he  went  through  life."  And 
the  other  one  that  started  with  him  began  to  stumble  and 
fall,  and  rose  and  fell  again ;  and  when  he  reached  the  goal 
he  was  scarred  and  marred,  and  battered  and  bruised,  and 
you  despise  him.  Why?  He  came  into  the  world  with  a 
fierce,  passionate  nature  that  needed  one  constant  battle  to 
control,  and  sometimes  he  fell.  But  he  cried  out,  "Rejoice 
not  against  me,  O  mine  enemy ;  when  I  fall,  I  shall  arise."  I 


238  HONOR  RETRIEVED. 

prefer  the  fighter  to  the  man  who  never  fights.  All  honor  to 
the  fighters !  Now,  young  men,  for  yourselves  and  for 
others,  enter  into  this  conflict.  It  is  a  grand  one. 

An  English  regiment  in  India  had  its  colors  taken  away 
for  insubordination.  Every  man  drew  his  rations  and  pay 
just  as  usual.  No  punishment  of  any  sort  was  added.  And 
yet  every  man  in  that  regiment,  whatever  he  might  be,  — 
possibly  coarse,  illiterate,  or  brutal,  —  and  however  lowered 
by  his  miserable  mistakes,  had  an  ideal  sense  of  honor. 
Every  man  groaned  and  suffered  under  the  chastisement  of 
the  loss  of  their  flag.  But  the  time  came  when  a  fort  was 
to  be  stormed  on  the  top  of  a  steep  hill.  It  was  a  perilous 
thing  to  charge  up  that  long,  cannon-swept  ascent.  But  the 
opportunity  was  there.  The  commanding  officer  rode  down 
the  line  in  front  of  the  disgraced  regiment  and  said, 
"  Attention,  men !  your  colors  are  on  the  top  of  that  hill. 
Charge."  And  they  did  charge.  Up  that  hill,  under  the 
fiery  storm  of  shot  and  shell,  through  the  abatis,  over  the 
rampart,  into  the  fort,  —  a  ghastly,  battered,  bleeding  few, 
to  receive  their  flag,  —  only  a  fragment  of  the  regiment. 
The  rest  lay  dead  in  heaps  all  up  the  slope ;  but  they 
gave  their  lives  gladly  for  such  a  thing  as  the  honor  of 
their  regimental  flag. 

Young  men,  your  prize  is  higher  and  nobler  than  this.  I 
leave  the  lesson  with  you.  May  you  be  able  to  say,  though 
covered  with  scars  in  the  conflict,  "  I  have  fought  the  good 
fight  and  obtained  the  victory,  and  the  immortal  crown  is 


mine. " 


CHAPTER  X. 


PREVENTION  BETTER  THAN  CURE  —  THE  PATHOS  OF  LIFE  — 
CHILDREN  BORN   TO   SIN  AND   SORROW. 

Tell-tale  Scars  —  A  Modern  Life  of  Moses  —  Underrating  the  Capacity  of 
Children  —  A  Boy's  Idea  of  How  Flies  are  Made  —  "  Puttin'  on  'em  To- 
gether, and  a-Fittin'  of  'em"— Saving  Half  Fare  — "Only  Ten,  in  the 
Cars  "  —  A  New  Way  to  Sign  the  Pledge  —  A  Father  who  Would  not  be 
Outdone  by  His  Boy  —  A  True  Incident  —  What  the  Jug  Contained  — 
Value  of  Children's  Aid  —  An  Incident  from  My  Own  Experience  —  Cries 
of  Distress  —  A  Peep  Over  the  Fence  —  A  Triumphal  Procession  —  What 
a  Temperance  Boy  Accomplished  —  An  Army  Officer's  Story  —  Charity 
Children  —  A  Tour  Through  a  Tenement  House  —  What  was  Discovered 
Under  the  Rafters  — A  Dying  Little  Waif— Hiding  from  Father  — 
Friendless  and  Motherless  —  An  Affecting  Scene  —  The  Dying  Boy's 
Hymn  —  Death  in  a  Garret  —  Rest  at  Last  —  How  a  Minister  Argued  the 
Points  —  Convinced  —  God  Bless  the  Children. 


T  is  a  great  work  to  save  a 
drunkard.      It    is    worth   a 
life-effort  to  lift  a  man  from 
degradation.     It  is  worth  a 
mighty  self-sacrifice  to  raise 
a  man,  and  enable   him   to 
stand  as  a  man  free  from  his 
debasement  and  fetters ;  but  to  pre- 
vent his  fall  is  far  better. 

A  boy,  when  asked,  "Would  you 
tell  a  lie  for  fifty  dollars?"  replied, 
"  No ;  because  when  the  dollars  are 

gone,  the  lie  will  stick."  Though  we  may  reform  a  man 
from  drunkenness,  no  one  can  ever  fully  recover  from  the 
effects  of  years  of  dissipation  and  intemperance.  You  put 
your  hand  in  the  hand  of  a  giant,  and  he  crushes  it.  You 

239 


240  CAPACITY   OF  CHILDREN. 

shriek  in  your  agony,  and  by  and  by,  with  a  desperate  effort, 
you  draw  forth  your  hand.  It  is  crushed  and  torn,  mangled 
and  bleeding.  That  hand  may  be  at  last  healed,  but  it  will 
be  a  mutilated  hand  as  long  as  you  live.  And  so  a  man  may 
be  cured  of  this  evil  of  drunkenness,  but  the  marks  are  upon 
him,  and  will  be  to  the  day  of  his  death.  Many  a  man  in 
perfect  health  has  a  face  fearfully  marred  and  scarred  from 
smallpox ;  the  disease  has  gone,  but  the  marks  remain. 
Therefore  it  is  a  more  important  work  to  prevent  than  it  is 
to  cure. 

Now,  one  would  suppose  there  would  be  no  opposition  to 
this  work.  But  there  are  some  persons  who  oppose  every- 
thing that  does  not  suit  their  own  narrow  views,  or  that  they 
have  not  suggested,  and  so  there  is  opposition.  The  great 
objection  seems  to  be  that  "  these  children  are  led  and  enticed 
to  sign  the  pledge,  without  appealing  to  their  understanding." 
We  underrate  the  capacity  of  children  to  understand, — 
altogether  underrate  it.  There  is  a  kind  of  literature  grow- 
ing out  of  an  attempt  to  make  the  scripture  narratives  com- 
prehended by  infant  minds.  You  read  the  life  of  Jesus,  the 
life  of  Moses,  or  the  life  of  Joseph,  to  your  boy  of  five  years 
from  the  Bible ;  and  if  he  does  not  understand  these  narra- 
tives he  will  understand  nothing.  And  yet  we  have  namby- 
pamby  editions  of  the  life  of  Moses  after  this  fashion :  — 

"  Moses  was  a  very  nice  little  darling  love  of  a  child,  with 
blue  eyes,  and  flaxen  hair  hanging  over  his  shoulders,  and 
little  dimples  on  his  knuckles,  and  the  points  of  his  fingers 
pink  and  beautiful ;  and  his  mother  loved  her  dear  little 
darling  child,  and  she  found  that  bad  men  wanted  to  kill 
him ;  so  she  made  a  basket  of  bulrushes,  and  called  it  an 
ark,  and  lined  it  with  something  to  keep  the  water  out  and 
cotton  wool  to  make  it  soft  and  warm,  and  pushed  it  out  into 
the  stream ;  and  when  the  little  child  saw  its  mother  stand- 


HOW  FLIES  ARE  MADE. 


241 


ing  on  the  bank,  it  stretched  out  its  dimpled  hands  with 
the  little  pink  finger-nails,  and  the  mother  began  to  cry  — ." 
And  all  such  nonsense  as  that. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  once  said,  "  It  is  all  folly  to  talk  of  writing 
down  to  the  capacity  of  children.  Give  them  something  to 
grasp  after,  and  they  will  grasp  that  which  will  astonish 
you."  We  often  hear  shrewd  remarks  from  children,  and  we 
call  them  "haphazard."  But  they  are  not.  They  are  the 
result  of  a  process  of  reasoning,  and  I  want  to  give  you  one 
or  two  illustrations. 

I  knew  two  boys  very  well,  —  at  least,  I 
knew  their  father  very  well.     One  of  the  boys 
was    about     ten    years    old. 
His    name    was  Willie,   and 
the  other,  who  was  about  six, 
was    named    Jamie.      Jamie 
was  seated  on  the   doorstep 
•[,   whittling  a  stick,  as  Yankee 
fl  boys  do.     Willie  had  caught 
a  fly,  and,  holding  it  in  his 
fingers,  said  :  "  What  a  queer 
thing  a  fly  is,  ain't  it?     Just 
Jjji  look  at  its  legs.     Look  at  its 
r  wings.     When   I   blow   him, 
he'll  buzz.     Ain't  it  queer? 

"AIN'T  IT   QUEEB?"  j       ^^      ^      Q^      ^fc 

him."  That  has  been  a  wonder  to  many.  Professor  Huxley 
cannot  answer  that  question.  No  scientist  can.  "  Jamie, 
how  d'ye  suppose  God  makes  flies?"  The  little  fellow, 
whittling  away  at  his  stick,  said :  "  Why,  Willie,  God  don't 
make  flies  as  carpenters  make  things,  —  puttin'  on  'em 
together  and  afittin'  of  'em.  God  says,  '  Let  there  be  flies,' 
and  then  there  is  flies."  Call  that  haphazard  ?  No.  That 


242  LITTLE   MIMICS. 

boy  had  heard  or  read  the  sublime  passage,  "  God  said,  Let 
there  be  light,  and  there  was  light ; "  and  thence  he  reasoned 
out  the  creative  power  of  the  Almighty. 

I  say  again,  we  underrate  the  capacity  of  children.  We 
forget  that  they  have  imitative  faculties.  A  boy,  when  asked 
his  age  by  a  railway  conductor,  said :  "  At  home  I  'm  twelve; 
but  mother  says  I  'm  only  ten  in  the  cars."  I  would  not 
affirm  that  this  is  a  general  practice,  but  the  frequency  of 
such  things  is  really  suggestive.  Conductors  tell  me  that 
good-looking  children,  well-dressed  children,  educated  chil- 
dren, are  sometimes  taught  to  lie  for  the  sake  of  saving  a 
half-fare-  on  the  railroad. 

Now,  I  ask,  what  is  to  be  the  honesty  of  the  next  genera- 
tion if  this  sort  of  thing  is  continued  ?  These  children  re- 
member,  and  we  underrate  their  capacity  to  remember,  and 
forget  that  they  imitate.  You  do  not  wish  to  destroy  the 
respect  of  a  child  for  his  father  or  his  mother,  do  you?  I 
glory  in  the  boy  who  said  :  "  I  tell  you  what  it  is ;  if  my 
mother  says  a  thing  is  so,  it  is  so,  even  if  it  is  not  so." 
What  a  profound  conviction  that  boy  must  have  had  of  his 
mother's  veracity  ! 

One  other  illustration.  A  lady  I  knew,  a  godly  woman 
whose  husband  was  very  profane,  had  a  boy  who  was  the 
light  of  her  eyes,  the  pride  of  her  heart.  One  day  she  heard 
him  swear.  She  said  to  him,  with  her  heart  breaking ;  "  My 
boy,  you  said  a  very  naughty  word,  and  you  must  ask  God 
to  forgive  you."  Well,  he  was  obedient  to  his  mother,  but 
was  a  little  sulky  at  the  idea  of  confession.  She  followed 
him  to  his  room,  and  he  knelt  down  and  said,  in  a  very  sulky 
tone :  "  Oh,  God,  I  'm  sorry  I  said  that  naughty  word,  and  I 
hope  you  '11  forgive  me,  and  I  guess  you  will.  But  I  want 
you  to  hurry  and  grow  me  up  a  man  quick,  so  as  I  can  swear 
like  father  does,  and  then  you  wouldn't  care  about  my 


"I'LL   TAKE  WHAT  FATHER   TAKES."  243 

swearing."  Let  a  father  hear  that  from  the  lips  of  his  child, 
and  will  he  ever  dare  to  utter  a  profane  word  in  his  hearing 
again?  These  children  understand  well  enough.  What 
effect  will  a  father's  precepts  have  upon  a  boy  when  he  can 
say :  "  I  wonder  what  makes  father  laugh  and  tell  us  how  he 
ran  away  from  school,  and  put  wax  on  the  schoolmaster's 
seat,  and  plagued  the  other  boys,  and  then  turn  round  and 
shut  me  up  and  whip  me  when  I  just  tried  to  be  as  smart  as 
he  was  ?  "  Ah,  we  underrate  the  capacity  of  the  young  to 
understand  and  remember. 

Rev.  Charles  Garratt,  I  believe,  tells  us  that  a  little  fellow 
of  thirteen  years  of  age  sat  at  the  table  with  his  father.  The 
waiter  came  round  and  asked  him  what  he  would  take. 
There  was  wine  on  the  table.  "  What  will  you  take  ? " 
"I  '11  take  what  father  takes."  The  father  had  the  decanter 
in  his  hand,  just  about  to  pour  out  the  wine,  and  he  dropped 
it  as  if  it  were  fire.  Laying  his  hand  lovingly  on  the  head 
of  the  boy,  he  said :  "  Waiter,  I  '11  take  water."  Now,  this 
is  what  we  want,  —  that  fathers,  mothers,  brothers,  sisters, 
and  all  who  have  influence  with  children  shall  help  us  in 
inspiring  them  with  a  hatred  of  that  which  never  benefited 
a  human  being,  and  has  brought  many  to  destruction  and 
perdition. 

I  know  people  tell  us  sometimes :  "  It  is  no  use  working 
among  children ;  it  is  no  use  laboring  with  them.  They  do 
not  understand  what  they  are  doing,  have  no  idea  what  they 
are  about.  They  will  sign  your  pledge,  and  belong  to  your 
band  of  hope,  and  then  they  will  break  the  pledge  by  and 
by."  Why  do  you  not  raise  the  same  objection  against  your 
Sunday  schools  ?  You  cannot  make  all  your  Sunday  scholars 
Christians,  can  you  ?  But  there  is  a  large  proportion  of  them 
who  do  come  into  the  church.  And  there  is  a  large  propor- 
tion of  those  who  adopt  the  principle  and  join  these  bands  of 


244  A  CHILD'S  INFLUENCE. 

hope,  and  sign  the  pledge  of  total  abstinence,  who  do  keep 
it,  for  I  meet  them  by  scores  almost  every  week  of  my  life. 

A  gentleman  in  the  city  of  Boston,  who  was  in  the  habit 
of  using  wine,  was  asked  by  one  of  his  promising  boys  if  he 
might  go  to  one  of  our  meetings.  "  Yes,  my  boy,  you  may 
go,  but  you  must  not  sign  the  pledge."  Now,  in  our  cold- 
water  army  we  don't  allow  the  children  to  sign  the  pledge 
without  the  consent  of  their  parents.  We  believe  the  boy's 
first  duty  is  to  obey  his  father  and  mother.  Well,  the  boy 
came ;  he  was  a  noble  little  fellow,  full  of  fire  and  life  and 
ingenuousness.  We  sang  and  sang,  and  the  chorus  of  one  of 
the  songs  was  shouted  by  the  children ;  — 

"  Cheer  up  my  lively  lads, 
In  spite  of  rum  and  cider; 
Cheer  up,  my  lively  lads, 
We've  signed  the  pledge  together." 

We  sung  it  several  times,  and  the  little  fellow  I  speak  of 
sung  it  too.  As  he  was  walking  home,  however,  the  thought 
struck  him  that  he  had  been  singing  what  was  not  true : 
"  We  have  signed  the  pledge  together  ;  "  he  had  not  signed 
the  pledge.  When  he  reached  home  he  sat  down  at  the 
table,  and  on  it  was  a  jug  of  cider.  "  Jem,"  says  one  of  his 
brothers,  "  Will  you  have  some  cider  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Why  not  ?     Don't  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  like  it,  but  I  'm  never  going  to  drink  any  more 
cider  ;  nothing  that  is  intoxicating  for  me." 

"  My  boy,"  said  his  father,  "  you  have  not  disobeyed  me, 
—  you  have  not  signed  the  pledge  ?  " 

"  No,  father,"  said  he,  sobbing,  "  I  have  not  signed  the 
pledge,  but  I  've  sung  it,  and  that 's  enough  for  me." 

That  father  come  up  to  the  temperance  meeting,  at 
which  three  thousand  people  were  assembled,  and  told  the 


THE  BEER  MOTHER  MAKES.' 


245 


story,  and  said  :  "  I  '11  not  be  outdone  by  my  boy ;  though  I 
have  not  sung-  the  pledge  I  will  sign  it."  He  did  so,  and  is 
at  the  present  day  one  of  the  truest  and  noblest  supporters 
of  the  cause.  Now,  I  like  to  see  conscientiousness,  and 
children  are  conscientious  before  they  become  warped  and 
stultified  by  contact  with  the  world ;  and  if  we  can  bring 
them  to  the  right  point  at  starting,  we  may  feel  assured  they 
will  go  on,  by  God's  grace,  to  a  glorious  consummation. 

Some  persons  say :  "  What  is  the  use  of  let- 
ting a  child  of  six  or  seven  years  old  sign  the 
pledge?     They   don't  understand   it."     Now, 
children   under- 
stand a  great  deal 
more  than  we  give 
them    credit   for. 
They    do    under- 
stand   what    is 
meant     by     the 
pledge    and    by 
temperance,    and 
they   understand, 
and  often  use,  the 
arguments.    I  was 

once  engaged  in  forming  a  cold-water  army  at  Bangor,  and  a 
boy  said  to  me,  "  If  I  sign  the  pledge,  may  I  drink  cider  and 
the  beer  mother  makes?"  Now,  I  knew  that  what  he  called 
the  beer  made  by  his  mother  was  a  drink  which  was  not 
intoxicating;  so  I  said  he  might  drink  that,  but  cider, — 
no.  "  Oh,  well,  I  like  cider,"  said  he,  and  away  he  went. 
Other  boys  joined  him,  and  they  talked  earnestly  together. 
Presently  he  came  back  and  said :  "  I  '11  put  my  name  down, 
I  '11  sign." 

A  gentleman  in  Virginia  had  a  boy  six  or  seven  years  old, 


ul'LL  NOT  BE   OUTDONE   BY   MY  BOY. 


246  A  CANDID  REPLY. 

who  wanted  to  sign  the  pledge  ;  all  in  the  family  had  done  so, 
but  the  father  thought  him  too  young  and  would  not  permit 
him.  At  last,  however,  after  much  entreaty,  permission  was 
given.  Soon  after,  the  father  went  on  a  journey.  At*  one 
stopping-place,  away  from  a  town,  he  called  for  some  water. 
It  did  not  come,  so  he  called  again ;  still  he  could  not  get  it, 
but  cider  was  brought  instead,  and,  being  very  thirsty,  he 
drank  that.  When  he  returned  home  he  related  the  circum- 
stance. After  he  had  finished,  the  little  boy  came  up  to  his 
knee  with  his  eyes  full  of  tears,  and  he  said,  "  Father,  how  far 
were  you  from  James  River  when  you  drank  the  cider  ?  " 
" Rather  more  than  fifteen  miles,  my  boy."  "Well,"  said  the 
little  fellow,  sobbing,  "  I  'd  have  walked  to  James  River  and 
back  again  rather  than  have  broken  my  pledge."  God  bless 
the  children !  We  have  thousands  such  as  these ;  children 
who  understand  the  principle  and  keep  to  the  practice.  I 
sometimes  wish  the  adults  kept  the  pledge  as  well  as  the  boys 
do.  I  said  just  now  that  the  children  understand  the  argu- 
ments. A  lady  who  kept  a  school  told  me  that  when  she 
was  teaching  spelling  in  a  class,  they  came  one  day  to  the 
word  "jug."  "What,"  she  asked,  "do  people  put  in  a  jug." 
"  Rum,"  said  a  boy.  "  I  hope,"  said  the  lady,  "  none  of  you 
know  anything  of  rum."  "I  do,"  said  the  boy;  "my  father 
drinks  it,  and  I  like  it."  At  the  recess,  the  other  children 
gathered  round  that  boy,  and  argued  with  such  force  that  at 
last,  as  many  older  than  he  have  done,  he  backed  against  a 
wall  and  said,  "  I  don't  care  if  it  is  so  ;  I  don't  care  if  you  are 
right."  They  do  understand  the  argument. 

Children  may  be  made  glorious  coadjutors  in  the  ranks. 
The  children  in  our  country  have  been  exerting  an  in- 
fluence outside  of  their  armies ;  they  know  well  what  is 
meant  by  sympathy  and  benevolence.  We  have  taught  them 
that  a  drunkard  is  a  man  ;  although  he  is  poor,  miserable, 


POWER   OF  SYMPATHY.  247 

and  debased,  and  although  he  sometimes  frightens  them,  yet 
that  he  is  a  man,  and  was  once  a  boy  as  pure  and  bright  as 
they ;  therefore  we  teach  the  children  that  they  should  have 
sympathy  with  a  drunkard  who  has  a  man's  heart  and  sensi- 
bility. I  have  approached  the  most  hardened  wretches,  and 
have  spoken  to  them  in  tones  of  kindness  and  sympathy ;  and, 
although  the  eye  was  bleared  and  bloodshot,  yet  I  could  see 
the  crystal  drops  welling  up  and  falling  down  the  bloated 
face.  One  man,  I  remember,  lifted  his  hands,  and  said,  "I 
did  n't  know  I  had  a  friend  in  the  world."  No  power  on  earth 
is  so  debasing  to  a  man  as  the  power  of  drink,  but  we  have 
taught  the  children  to  look  upon  the  intemperate  as  human 
beings. 

On  one  occasion  I  was  walking  at  the  end  of  a  procession. 
The  band  was  pla}ring,  banners  were  waving,  the  girls  wore 
medals,  and  the  boys  were  shouting  "  Hurrah  for  cold  water ! " 
when  I  heard  a  sound  of  crying,  which  seemed  to  proceed 
from  a  field  we  were  passing.  I  looked  over  the  bars,  and 
there  I  saw  a  little,  scantily-dressed  boy  on  his  knees,  rub* 
bing  his  eyes,  and  crying  most  piteously.  I  said,  "  What  is 
the  matter,  my  boy?  "  "My  father  won't  let  me  go  with  the 
procession."  "Do  you  want  to  go,  then?"  "Yes,  but  my 
father  won't  let  me;  may  I  go?"  "No,  you  must  not  if 
your  father  says  you  must  not."  I  left  him  there  and  walked 
to  the  place  where  the  procession  had  assembled.  In  address- 
ing the  children  I  told  them  what  1  had  witnessed,  and 
observed  how  happy  and  grateful  they  ought  to  be  that  they 
were  allowed  to  take  part  in  so  joyful  a  scene.  I  continued 
in  this  strain  for  a  little  time,  when  a  man  pushed  his  way 
through  the  crowd  up  to  the  platform,  and  said,  "  Have  you 
a  pledge  ?  "  "  Yes."  "  I  '11  put  my  name  down  on  it."  Then 
facing  the  children,  he  said,  "  That  boy  is  my  boy,  and  I  told 
him  this  morning  that  he  should  not  come  up  here ;  but  I  am 


248 


A  HAPPY   SCENE. 


willing  that  he  should  come  now  if  you  will  have  him." 
"Have  him?"  shouted  every  boy,  "we'll  have  him;"  and 
away  some  scores  of  them  started  down  the  bill.  I  never 
saw  boys  run  so  before  in  my  life,  and  presently  they  were 


A   PEEP   OVER  THE   FENCE. 

seen  escorting  the  little  boy  in  triumph  to  the  place  where  we 
were.  There  they  shook  hands  with  him,  and  nothing  would 
satisfy  them  but  he  must  be  lifted  to  the  platform.  There  he 
stood,  twisting  his  old  straw  hat  in  his  fingers,  completely 
bewildered.  A  little  girl  put  a  medal  round  his  neck,  and  all 


A.N  ARMY   OFFICER'S  STORY.  249 

shouted  "Hurrah!"  It  is  always  encouraging  to  speak  to 
the  children,  because  they  understand  and  are  conscientious. 
I  have  one  little  fact  to  relate  on  the  subject  of  children's 
usefulness.  Children  can  be  useful  by  consistency,  consci- 
entious consistency.  I  was  on  my  way  to  Canada  once,  and, 
while  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  a  gentleman  who  was  one  of  a  very 
pleasant  party  of  passengers  came  to  me  and  said,  "  Mr.  Gough, 
I  believe."  "  Yes,  sir,  my  name  is  Gough."  "  You  probably 

do  not  know  me ;  I  am  Captain  ,  of  the  Rifle  Brigade. 

Do  you  remember,  when  you  were  lecturing  at  Niagara,  a 
gentleman  in  uniform  passed  the  pledge  ?  "  I  said  that  I  did 
distinctly.  "  Well,  I  am  the  man.  When  you  appealed  to 
the  people  to  adopt  the  principle  of  total  abstinence,  I  hap- 
pened to  be  present  in  uniform,  and,  to  encourage  others,  I 
undertook  the  task  I  have  mentioned.  My  boy  signed  that 
pledge,  and  on  coming  home  he  said,  4  Papa,  I  have  signed 
the  pledge;  will  you  help  me  keep  it?'  'Certainly,'  I  said. 
*  Well,  I  have  brought  home  a  copy  of  the  pledge,  will  you 
sign  it  ? '  '  Nonsense,  nonsense,  my  child ;  what  could  I  do 
when  my  brother  officers  called,  if  I  was  a  teetotaler  ? '  4  But 
do  try,  papa.'  '  Tut,  tut,  why  you  are  quite  a  little  radical.' 
1  Well,  you  won't  ask  me  to  pass  the  bottle? '  '  You  are  quite 
a  fanatic,  my  child ;  but  I  promise  not  to  ask  you  to  touch  it.' 
Six  weeks  after  that,  two  officers  came  in  to  spend  the 
evening.  4  What  have  you  to  drink  ? '  said  they ;  '  have  you 
any  more  of  that  prime  Scotch  ale  ? '  '  No,'  I  said,  '  I  have 
not,  but  I  will  get  some.  Here,  Willy,  run  to  the  canteen, 
and  tell  them  to  give  you  some  bottles  of  ale,  and  bring  them 
at  once.'  The  boy  stood  there  respectfully,  but  did  not  go. 
4  Come,  Willy ;  why,  what 's  the  matter  ?  Come,  run  along.' 
He  went,  but  came  back  presently  without  the  ale.  '  Where 's 
the  ale,  Willy?'  '  I  asked  them  for  it,  papa,  at  the  canteen, 
and  they  put  it  upon  the  counter,  but  I  could  not  touch  it. 
16 


250  A   FATHER  SAVED  BY   HIS  SON. 

O  papa,  don't  be  angry ;  I  told  them  to  send  it  up,  but  I 
could  not  touch  it  myself.'  I  could  not  but  feel  deeply 
moved.  I  said,  '  Gentlemen,  you  hear  that  ?  You  can  do  as 
you  please  ;•  when  the  ale  comes  you  may  drink  it,  but  not 
another  drop  after  that  shall  be  drunk  in  my  house,  and  not 
another  drop  shall  pass  my  tongue.  Willy,  have  you  your 
temperance  pledge? '  4  O  papa,  I  have.'  4  Bring  it  then,'  and 
the  boy  was  back  with  it  in  a  moment.  I  signed  it,  and  the 
little  fellow  clung  round  my  neck  in  a  frenzy  of  delight." 

That  officer  is  now  one  of  the  most  self-denying  advocates 
the  temperance  cause  possesses,  doing  more  good  than  any 
half-dozen  men  in  his  regiment.  It  cost  him  something 'to 
become  a  teetotaler.  He  met  at  first  with  ridicule,  but,  as  he 
said  to  me  :  "  I  have  the  best  of  it.  Sometimes  after  a  mess- 
dinner  they  will  rub  their  heads,  and  I  will  say,  tapping  my 
forehead,  'Ah,  perfectly  clear,  perfectly  clear,'  and  they  will 
reply,  ;  Well,  captain,  you  certainly  have  the  best  of  it.'  " 

These  children  are  very  impressible.  A  friend  of  mine, 
seeking  for  objects  of  charity,  reached  the  upper  room  of  a 
tenement  house.  It  was  vacant.  He  saw  a  ladder  pushed 
through  a  hole  in  the  ceiling.  Thinking  that  perhaps  some 
poor  creature  had  crept  up  there,  he  climbed  the  ladder,  drew 
himself  through  the  hole,  and  found  himself  under  the  rafters. 
There  was  no  light  but  that  which  came  through  a  bull's-eye 
in  the  place  of  a  tile  Soon  he  saw  a  heap  of  chips  and  shav- 
ings, and  on  them  lay  a  boy  about  ten  years  old. 

"  Boy,  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"Hush,  don't  tell  anybody,  please,  sir." 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Hush,  please  don't  tell  anybody,  sir ;  I  'm  ahiding." 

"  What  are  you  hiding  for  ?  " 

"  Don't  tell  anybody,  please,  sir." 

"  Where  's  your  mother?" 


AN  AFFECTING  SCENE.  251 

"  Please,  sir,  mother  's  dead." 

"  Where  's  your  father  ?  " 

"  Hush,  don't  tell  him.  But  look  here."  He  turned  him- 
self on  his  face,  and  through  the  rags  of  his  jacket  and  shirt 
my  friend  saw  that  the  boy's  flesh  was  terribly  bruised  and 
his  skin  was  broken. 

"  Why,  my  boy,  who  beat  you  like  that  ?  " 

"  Father  did,  sir." 

"  What  did  he  beat  you  for?" 

"  Father  got  drunk,  sir,  and  beat  me  'cos  I  would  n't  steal." 

"  Did  you  ever  steal?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  I  was  a  street-thief  once." 

"  And  why  won't  you  steal  any  more  ?  " 

"  Please,  sir,  I  went  to  the  mission  school,  and  they  told 
me  there  of  God  and  of  heaven  and  of  Jesus,  and  they  taught 
me,  '  Thou  shalt  not  steal,'  and  I  '11  never  steal  again,  if  my 
father  kills  me  for  it.  But  please  don't  tell  him." 

"My  boy,  you  must  n't  stay  here.  You  '11  die.  Now  you 
wait  patiently  here  for  a  little  time.  I  'm  going  away  to  see 
a  lady.  We  will  get  a  better  place  for  you  than  this." 

"  Thank  you,  sir ;  but  please,  sir,  would  you  like  to  hear 
me  sing  my  little  hymn?  " 

Bruised,  battered,  forlorn,  friendless,  motherless,  hiding 
from  an  infuriated  father,  he  had  a  little  hymn  to  sing. 

"  Yes,  I  will  hear  you  sing  your  little  hymn." 

He  raised  himself  on  his  elbow  and  then  sang :  — 

"Gentle  Jesus,  meek  and  mild, 
Look  upon  a  little  child, 
Pity  my  simplicity, 
Suffer  me  to  come  to  thee. 

"Fain  would  I  to  thee  be  brought, 
Gracious  Lord,  forbid  it  not : 
In  the  kingdom  of  thy  grace, 
Give  a  little  child  a  place." 

"That 's  the  little  hymn,  sir.     Good-by." 


252  LABORING  FOR  POSTERITY. 

The  gentleman  hurried  away  for  restoratives  and  help, 
came  back  again  in  less  than  two  hours,  and  climbed  the 
ladder.  There  were  the  chips,  there  were  the  shavings,  and 
there  was  the  little  motherless  boy  with  one  hand  by  his  side 
and  the  other  tucked  in  his  bosom  —  dead.  Oh,  I  thank  God 
that  he  who  said,  "  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me," 
did  not  say  "respectable  children,"  or  "well-educated  chil- 
dren." No,  he  sends  his  angels  into  the  homes  of  poverty 
and  sin  and  crime  where  you  do  not  like  to  go,  and  brings 
out  his  redeemed  ones,  and  they  are  as  stars  in  the  crown  of 
rejoicing  to  those  who  have  been  instrumental  in  enlighten- 
ing their  darkness. 

A  gentleman  told  me  that  once,  when  speaking  at  a  place, 
he  said :  "  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  we  are  not  laboring  for 
ourselves,  but  for  posterity.  Posterity  will  come  and  ask 
you,  'What  have  you  done  for  us?"  Fifteen  years  after- 
wards, he  went  to  the  same  place  to  speak  again,  and  he 
observed  children  present  of  various  ages,  —  fifteen,  fourteen, 
ten.  He  remembered  what  he  had  said  on  the  previous 
occasion,  and  in  addressing  the  audience  he  observed  :  "  La- 
dies and  gentlemen,  fifteen  years  ago  I  said  we  were  not 
laboring  for  ourselves,  but  for  posterity ;  and  posterity  would 
come  and  ask  us  what  we  had  done.  Posterity  has  come. 
They  are  here  to-day.  What  have  you  done  for  them  in  the 
last  fifteen  years?"  What  will  you  do  in  the  next  fifteen 
years  for  those  who  are  now  coming  up?  We  ask  you, 
parents,  to  give  the  subject  your  serious,  prayerful  consid- 
eration. I  would  not  use  any  argument  to  make  people  tee- 
totalers that  were  not  honest,  if  I  knew  it.  I  have  tried,  as 
far  as  I  am  able,  to  elevate  our  standard,  to  keep  it  from 
trailing  in  the  dust,  and  not  to  make  our  principles  a  matter 
of  bargain. 

An  Independent  minister  walked  from  Stroud  to  Ciren- 


GOD   BLESS   THE   CHILDREN.  255 

cester  to  hear  me  speak.  He  says  the  arguments  used  af- 
fected him  deeply.  I  had  said,  "  I  wish  a  man  to  sign  the 
pledge  if  it  is  right  to  do  so ;  if  it  is  wrong,  let  it  alone ;  but 
be  sure  you  are  right,  and  if  a  man  refuses  to  join,  let  him 
have  a  reason  he  is  not  ashamed  of,  —  one  that  is  satisfactory 
to  him  when  he  kneels  down  and  asks  God  for  a  blessing ; 
let  it  be  a  reason  he  will  be  satisfied  with  when  in  his  best 
moods ;  one  which  will  satisfy  him  at  the  last  of  his  life ;  a 
reason  he  is  willing  should  meet  him  on  that  day  when  he 
receives  the  reward  for  the  deeds  done  in  the  body."  This 
minister  told  me  he  argued  the  point  with  himself  the  whole 
twelve  miles  home,  arguing  as  if  for  life,  stopping  on  the 
road  and  thrusting  his  stick  into  the  ground,  bringing  every 
reason  forward  and  carefully  examining  it.  He  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  had  not  a  reason  against  total  absti- 
nence which  would  stand  the  test  of  judgment.  The  next 
morning  he  signed  the  pledge  and  was  ready  to  work  with 
us.  Have  a  reason.  The  hope  of  our  temperance  enterprise 
is  the  children,  and  again  I  say,  "  God  bless  the  children  and 
save  them  from  the  influences  that  are  degrading  to  so  many 
thousands."  If  we  can  save  the  children,  the  day  of  triumph 
will  soon  draw  near.  Will  you  help  us?  Help  us  for  the 
sake  of  your  own  children  and  the  children  of  others,  that 
these  may  be  saved  from  the  power  and  influence  of  intem- 
perance. 


CHAPTER   XL 


MY   POSITION    DEFINED  —  REASON    AND    REVELATION  —  THE 
CURTAIN   LIFTED  —  TALES   OF   THE   FALLEN. 

A  Titled  Toll-Man  —  Learning  versus  Common  Sense  —  Our  Standpoint  — 
An  Actor  with  a  Proud  Record  —  Incidents  of  my  Visit  to  Califor- 
nia —  "  Help  Me  Out  of  This  Hell "  —  A  Cry  of  Agony  —  "  Drink 's  My 
Curse" — Lifting  the  Curtain  —  Secrets  of  the  Charnel  House  —  My  Inter- 
view with  a  Physician  —  "  It 's  No  Use,  I  'in  a  Lost  Laddie,  Good-by  "  — 
A  Clergyman's  Sad  Downfall  —  Employed  as  a  Hostler  in  a  Stable  — 
"  You  Know  Who  I  Am,  Go  Away  from  Me  "—  "  Lost !  LOST  !  LOST  !  » 
—  An  Explorer's  Testimony  —  An  Interesting  Narrative  —  A  Campaign 
Full  of  Hardship  and  Danger  —  Soldiers  Without  Grog  — What  they 
Endured  —  Sir  Henry  Havelock's  Report  —  Storming  a  Fortress  after  a 
March  of  Forty  Miles  —  Sitting  on  a  Hornet's  Nest  — A  Boy's  Com- 
position on  a  Pin  —  Stimulus  not  Strength. 


E   know   some   persons  con- 
sider it  a  condescension  to 
patronize    us,    but   a   good 
enterprise  patronizes  every 
human  being  that  thorough- 
ly engages  in  it;  there  is  no 
stooping     in     the     matter. 
Every  man,  I  do  not  care 
who  he  is,  who  will  sign  the  temper- 
ance pledge  for    the   benefit  of   his 
brother,  takes  a  step  upwards.     We 
cannot  stoop  in  doing  a  good  work. 

Do  you  think  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch  has  taken  a  step  down, 
because,  in  order  to  prevent  drink  being  sold  in  the  toll- 
houses on  his  large  estate,  he  has  taken  those  toll-houses  into 
his  own  hands,  and  on  every  toll-gate  has  had  painted: 

256 


A   GRAND   AND  NOBLE   ENTERPRISE.  257 

"  Walter  Scott,  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  toll-man  ? "  Do  you 
suppose  he  lowered  himself  in  becoming  a  toll-man  for  the 
sake  of  his  neighbors,  his  tenants,  and  the  community  at 
large?  He  never  took  a  higher  step  in  his  life. 

There  is  grandeur  and  nobility  about  our  enterprise. 
Men  call  it  tame  and  commonplace.  It  forms  a  grand  epic 
poem  such  as  the  world  has  never  read,  and  has  not  the 
faculty  to  read  to-day,  of  struggle,  sorrow,  degradation, 
triumph,  and  victory,  with  the  assurance  that,  in  the  end, 
right  "will  triumph  and  sit  upon  the  throne,  and  the  wrong 
shall  be  overthrown.  Then  let  us  stand  by  the  right.  And 
we  claim  that  we  are  right  when  we  define  our  position  by 
declaring  that  total  abstinence  is  lawful.  A  gentlejnan  said 
to  me,  "The  Bible  is  against  you."  "Oh,  no,"  I  replied. 
"Well,  you  have  no  command  in  the  Bible  to  abstain." 
"Don't  want  one."  I  do  not  go  to  the  Bible  to  find  a 
command,  "Thou  shalt  abstain  from  intoxicating  liquors." 
I  do  not  seek  for  a  command  in  the  Bible  to  abstain  from 
gambling,  horse-racing,  prize-fighting,  dog-fighting,  cock-fight- 
ing, and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  As  a  Christian  man,  I  abstain 
from  these  things,  believing  them  to  be  detrimental  to  the 
best  interests  of  society ;  and  because  I  am  a  Christian  it  is 
not  only  lawful  for  me  to  do  so,  but  an  absolute  duty.  I 
give  to  these  men  all  they  claim.  I  am  not  a  learned  man. 
I  do  not  understand  Hebrew  or  Greek.  Shov/  me  Hebrew 
words  and  Greek  words  and  they  are  all  Greek  to  me.  But  I 
have  found  out  this :  If  a  man  is  right  according  to  the  com- 
mon sense  God  has  given  him,  he  can  stand  his  ground  if  he 
does  not  go  out  of  his  depth. 

If  I  should  pretend  to  deliver  a  physiological  lecture, 
knowing  nothing  of  the  science,  and  should  attempt  to 
learnedly  discuss  the  effects  of  drink  on  the  nervous  system, 
the  brain,  or  on  the  tissues,  I  might  be  floored  by  a  few  hard 


258  MY   POSITION   DEFINED. 

words  that  I  do  not  understand.  My  opponent  may  be 
wrong  and  I  may  be  right;  I  get  the  kicks  and  he  gets 
the  sympathy,  because  I  go  out  of  my  depth  and  attempt 
to  argue  the  point  beyond  my  knowledge.  There  are  men 
who  have  talked  about  the  meaning  of  tirosh,  and  yayin  and 
oinos,  and  other  learned  words,  men  who  did  not  understand 
them,  and  who  discoursed  about  the  wines  of  Scripture,  when 
an  educated  man  could  upset  them  in  five  minutes. 

Well,  "the  Bible  permits  the  use  of  wine."  "Yes." 
"  Approves  it."  "  Yes."  "  Our  Saviour  made  wine." 
"Yes."  "He  drank  wine."  "Yes."  "It  is  lawful  to 
drink  wine."  "  Yes ;  what  more  do  you  want  ?  "  We  will 
grant  you,  if  you  demand  it,  that  the  Bible  permits,  sanc- 
tions, and  approves  its  use,  that  the  Saviour  made  it,  and  it 
is  lawful  to  use  it.  I  will  give  you  all  that,  but  I  want  to 
say,  in  defining  my  position,  that  every  man  who  brings  the 
Bible  to  sustain  him  in  the  use  of  drink  must  accept  the 
Bible  as  a  rule  of  faith  and  practice ;  for  it  is  mean,  sneaking, 
cowardly,  and  contemptible  to  search  the  Bible  for  permis- 
sion to  gratify  a  propensity,  and  then  reject  all  God's  require- 
ments. I  speak  of  the  Bible  argument  to  Bible  believers 
and  Bible  lovers.  I  give  them  all  they  ask,  and  now  I  define 
my  position  in  reply.  With  my  views  of  Christianity  and 
its  claims  upon  me,  by  my  allegiance  to  God,  by  my  faith  in 
Christ,  by  the  vows  I  took  upon  myself  in  His  presence  and 
before  His  people,  I  am  bound  to  give  up  a  lawful  gratifica- 
tion, if,  by  so  doing,  my  example  will  save  a  weaker  brother 
from  falling  into  sin.  That  is  my  position ;  can  you  take 
that  away  from  me  ?  I  will  hold  it,  and  take  my  stand  upon 
it  in  the  day  of  judgment. 

My  principle,  then, — judged  from  the  Bible  standpoint,— 
is  a  lawful  one.  I  say  again,  I  do  not  search  the  Bible  for  a 
command.  I  seek  in  the  Bible  reverently  for  a  permission, 


CHRISTIANITY  AND   TEMPERANCE.  259 

and  if  I  find  there  a  permission  to  abstain,  I  act  upon  it  as  if 
it  were  a  command,  in  view  of  the  evil  of  drunkenness  and 
that  which  promotes  and  perpetuates  it. 

Some  persons  will  ask  us,  again :  "  What  do  you  expect 
to  do  with  total  abstinence?  You  do  not  expect  by  it  to 
make  men  Christians,  do  you?"  Oh,  no.  We  have  our 
gospel  temperance  associations,  I  know;  but  we  do  not 
expect  that  every  man  who  signs  the  total  abstinence  pledge 
is  to  be  at  once  a  Christian.  We  cannot  make  men  Chris- 
tians; no  minister  —  however  holy  his  life  and  earnest  his 
preaching  —  can  do  that.  When  the  disciples  failed  to  cast 
the  devil  out  of  the  boy  while  the  Saviour  was  in  the  moun- 
tain, they  told  Jesus,  and  he  said,  "  Bring  him  to  me."  Now, 
if  my  principle  is  a  lawful  one,  and  by  it  I  can  remove  the 
hindrance  to  a  man's  hearing  the  truth,  and  be  indirectly  the 
means  of  bringing  him  to  the  Saviour,  I  demand  the  sym- 
pathy of  those  who  love  the  Saviour.  We  ask  your  sympathy 
and  co-operation.  It  has  done  this  work,  will  do  it,  is  doing 
it  day  by  day.  Some  tell  us  :  "You  are  doing  nothing  more." 
We  do  not  profess  to  do  anything  more.  It  is  true  we  can- 
not say  to  a  man :  "  You  cannot  stop  drinking  unless  you 
become  a  Christian,"  because  he  can.  I  have  known  men 
who  are  not  Christians,  who  have  been  abstainers  twenty 
years.  We  do  not  go  to  a  man  and  say,  "  If  you  do  not  be- 
come a  Christian  you  cannot  stop  lying ;  if  you  do  not  become 
a  Christian  you  cannot  stop  swearing ;  if  you  do  not  become 
a  Christian  you  cannot  stop  thieving ;  if  you  do  not  become  a 
Christian  you  cannot  stop  drinking." 

I  have  more  than  once  defined  my  position  on  this  point, 
that  the  only  absolute  safety  for  a  man  who  would  reform 
from  drunkenness  or  any  other  sin  is  a  determined  will  and 
the  grace  of  God ;  all  else  is  a  risk. 

Our  principle  of  total  abstinence,  then,  is  a  lawful  prin- 


260 


AN  ACTOR'S  STORY. 


ciple.     It  is  also  a  sensible  principle.     Can  you  find  me  a 
man  who  will  say :  "  I  am  sixty  years  of  age,  and  I  never 
drank  a  drop  of  intoxicating  liquor,  and  I  regret  that  I  did 
not  learn  to  drink  it  when  I  was  a  young  man?"     Find  me 
such  a  man  anywhere.     When  I  was  in  California,  a  gentle- 
man who  was  attached  to  a  theatre  called  upon  me,  and  said : 
"  I  am  no  reformer.     It  is  not  in  my  line. 
Sunday-schools   and    temperance    societies 
are  very  well  in  their  way,  but  they  are 
not  in   my  line.      I   have   been   an   actor 
since  I  was  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  I  am 
now  forty-two,  and  I  never  drank  a 
drop   of   intoxicating    liquor    in   my 
life.     What   do   you   think  of  that? 
I    am    proud   of  it   myself." 
He  was  no  "howling  dervish 
of    a    temperance    lecturer." 
He  cared  but  little  for  the  ab- 
stract principle,  but  as  to  the 
fact  of  his   own   total  absti- 
nence he  said,  "  I  'm  proud  of 
it."    Yet  there  were  men  who 
came  to  me  in  that  city  by  the 

score,  —  I  say  it  within  bounds,  —  one  of  them  the  son  of  a 
well-known  lawyer  in  New  York,  who,  as  he  grovelled  at  my 
feet  and  clasped  my  hands,  said :  "  For  the  love  of  God,  help 
me  out  of  this  hell!"  "What's  the  matter  with  you?" 
" Drink's  my  curse !"  Yes,  that's  it.  It  comes  from  the 
prison,  "Drink  's  my  curse  !  "  It  comes  from  your  houses  of 
correction,  "  Drink  's  my  curse  !  "  It  comes  echoing  from  the 
lunatic  asylum,  "  Drink  's  my  curse  !  "  It  comes  from  the 
pale-faced  wife  and  the  starving  children,  "Drink's  my 
curse  !  "  It  comes  hissing  hot  through  the  black  lips  of  the 


DRINK'S  MY  CURSE.' 


DRINK'S  MY  CURSE.' 


261 


dying  drunkard,  "Drink  's  my  curse  !  "     And  not  a  man  who 
has  escaped  but  to-day  rejoices  in  the  fact  of  his  escape. 

Look  at  the  wrecks  of  men  to  be  seen  on  every  hand.  Oh, 
young  men,  I  wish  I  could  lift  the  curtain  that  conceals  from 
your  view  the  secrets  of  this  charnel-house.  A  man  about 
forty  years  of  age,  a  graduate  of  Edinburgh  University, 
came  to  me  and  showed  me  his  diploma  as  a  physician. 
He  was  a  fluent  linguist  and  a  very  cultivated  gentleman, 


YOU  KNOW  WHO   I  AM.: 


but  the  mark  was 
upon  him.  I  was 
with  him  some  time,  and 
when  he  left  me  he  said, 
"  I  am  very  much  obliged 
to  you,  Mr.  Gough;  you 
have  told  me  the  truth,  but 

it 's  no  use.     There 's  no  help  for  me.     Will  you  shake  hands 
with  me  ?     I  'm  a  lost  laddie  ;  good-by." 

How  many  lost  laddies  are  there  to-day!  Lost!  lost! 
A  living  man  lost !  Yes.  It 's  an  awful  sight  to  see  a  living 
man  a  lost  man,  and  there  are  such.  Lost !  lost!  LOST  !  I  knelt 
at  the  family  altar  with  a  doctor  of  divinity  in  New  England, 
in  1852.  He  was  the  pastor  of  a  large  church.  To-day  he 
is  a  drunkard,  and  employed  as  a  hostler  in  a  stable.  At  one 
time  it  was  decided  to  visit  him,  and  a  committee  of  Christian 
men  was  appointed  to  see  him.  What  was  the  result?  "Go 


262  LOST !    LOST !    LOST ! 

away  from  me !  You  know  who  I  am ;  you  know  what  I 
am ;  you  know  what  I  have  been.  Go  away  from  me.  The 
doctor  prescribed  liquor  in  order  to  save  my  life,  but  he  has 
damned  my  soul.  Go  away  from  me." 

Lost !  Lost !  Lost !  And  there  are  men  who  are  becoming 
lost  to-day,  going  across  that  line  which,  if  they  cross  it, 
leaves  them  but  little  hope.  It  is  horrible  to  note  the  results 
of  the  drink,  and  yet  observe  men  stepping  forward  to  fill 
up  the  ranks  as  death  mows  others  down.  It  is  fearful,  it  is 
pitiful,  to  see  such  results,  and  no  possible  good  to  be  derived 
from  the  use  of  that  which  directly  produces  them. 

We  oppose  the  employment  of  intoxicating  liquor  as  a 
beverage  because  it  is  utterly  useless  as  such ;  no  man  is 
benefited  by  the  use  of  it,  either  morally,  physically,  or  intel- 
lectually. I  know  some  are  prepared  to  doubt  it.  They  say, 
"Ah,  there  is  a  good  in  it."  I  should  like  to  know  what 
good.  You  cannot  bring  me  a  man  who,  by  the  use  of  the 
drink  as  a  beverage,  has  been  in  any  degree  benefited. 

But  some  men  say,  "  I  can  do  more  work  under  the  influ- 
ence of  drink,  you  know,  than  I  can  do  without  it."  Some  of 
our  agricultural  laborers  say  they  can  go  through  a  harder  day's 
work  at  haying,  and  some  say  they  can  lift  heavier  loads  and 
endure  more  fatigue,  with  it  than  they  can  without  it. 
Very  well ;  perhaps  they  can  for  the  time  being,  but  we  have 
evidence  upon  evidence  to  prove  that  this  is  a  fallacy  in  the 
end.  Lieutenant  Lynch,  who  went  on  an  exploring  expe- 
dition to  the  Dead  Sea,  says :  — 

"  I  took  with  me  twelve  sailors ;  I  obtained  from  them  a 
promise — a  pledge — that  they  would  use  no  intoxicating  liquor 
as  a  beverage.  After  enduring  fatigue  such  as  seldom  falls 
to  the  lot  even  of  explorers,  I  have  brought  them  all  back 
again,  safe  and  sound  and  in  good  health;  and  I  believe 
I  owe  it  to  their  abstinence  from  all  intoxicating  drinks." 


TESTIMONY  OF  MEDICAL  EXPERTS.  263 

A  man  may  be  able  to  do  a  little  more  work  with  stimulus 
than  he  could  do  without  it,  but  every  man  who  does  it  in 
that  way,  whether  on  the  platform,  in  the  workshop,  at  the 
bar,  or  in  the  pulpit,  does  it  to  the  injury  of  his  constitution. 

Sir  William  Gull  said  that  he  would  deny  the  proposition 
that  intellectual  work  cannot  be  half  so  well  done  without 
wine  or  alcohol,  and  that  he  would  hold  the  opposite.  Dr. 
Richardson,  in  his  examination  before  the  Lords'  committee, 
1878,  said  that  "if  all  the  alcoholic  liquor  in  the  world  could 
be  tapped,  let  flow,  and  disappear,  the  world  would  be  much 
better ;  we  should  be  stronger  and  healthier,  the  spirits  more 
regular,  and  life  would  be  lengthened." 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Wakefield,  speaking  in  reference  to 
the  troops  in  India  during  the  war,  says  :  — 

"  Among  other  places  we  had  to  take  was  a  very  strong 
place  called  Ghuznee ;  we  had  to  blow  in  the  gate,  and  we 
lost  a  good  number  of  men.  I  am  now  speaking  of  a  circum- 
stance that  has  often  been  mentioned,  but  still  I  like  to  men- 
tion it  because  it  proves  the  truth  of  my  arguments.  The 
men,  after  entering  the  place,  spread  to  the  right  and  left.  Of 
course  —  as  is  always  given  on  these  occasions  —  the  order 
was,  4  Do  not  commit  any  outrage ; '  but  I  tell  you  plainly 
that  they  just  care  as  much  for  their  officers  as  they  do  for 
anybody  else,  and  I  tell  you  what  they  will  do.  If  their 
officers  speak  to  them,  they  will  club  their  muskets  and  say, 
4  You  hold  your  jaw.'  Not  so  at  Ghuznee.  Although  under 
fire  from  the  houses,  they  received  their  orders  from  the  offi- 
cers not  to  fire.  Not  one  of  them  did,  and  there  was  not  an 
outrage  committed  in  Ghuznee,  there  was  not  a  woman  or 
child  maltreated,  there  was  not  a  single  complaint.  I  am 
sure  you  all  feel  and  understand  what  the  noble  character  of 
the  Englishman  is  when  he  is  sober.  What  is  it?  Why  a 
man  that  would  not  hurt  or  harm  anything  except  in  the 


264  SOLDIERS  WITHOUT   GROG. 

service  of  his  queen  and  country  ;  and  it  was  illustrated  here. 
Here  were  perfectly  sober  men.  Havelock  wrote  in  raptures 
to  the  Foreign  and  Home  Temperance  Society.  He  says,  'It 
gives  me  immense  pleasure  to  tell  you  that  Ghuznee  was 
taken  by  perfectly  sober  men.'  Was  not  this  a  picture  of 
what  is  called  sobriety. 

"  Time  rolled  on ;  our  forces  had  to  undergo  all  sorts  of 
vicissitudes,  a  climate  of  extreme  heat  in  summer  and  of 
extreme  cold  in  winter :  the  commissariat  could  not  reach 
them  from  Bengal,  for  they  had  to  go  right  through  the 
whole  of  the  Punjaub,  and  up  those  passes  which  were  con- 
stantly filled  with  hostile  tribes.  The  consequence  was  that 
half  the  men  in  the  regiments  were  without  shoes  or  coats  ; 
they  got  what  they  called  the  '  posteen  '  or  sheepskin  dress 
of  the  country.  They  wore  these  sheepskins.  I  merely 
mention  all  this  to  show  you  the  privations  they  had  to 
undergo.  They  had  to  sleep  on  the  ground  and  to  march 
through  snow  at  one  time  and  under  a  blazing  sun  at 
another,  that  would  take  the  skin  off  your  face  before  you 
can  think  of  it ;  they  did  it  all  on  cold  water. 

"  Now  comes  the  painful  part  of  my  story.  The  wise 
men  of  those  days  —  I  hope  we  shall  never  have  such  another 
generation  —  began  to  say,  4Oh,  but  the  poor  soldier  is 
without  his  grog ;  we  must  send  him  some  grog ! '  The 
governor-general,  who,  of  course,  is  the  greatest  man  in  all 
India,  very  soon  writes  to  the  commissariat,  and  says,  '  Make 
arrangements  to  send  fourteen  hundred  camel-loads  of  rum 
into  Afghanistan.'  '  What  was  the  consequence  ?  From  that 
day  there  were  courts-martial,  from  that  day  men  were 
guilty  of  striking  their  officers  in  the  execution  of  their 
duty  —  coming  under  the  frightful  lash — coming  under 
sentence  of  transportation  for  life,  just  for  one  act  of  passion, 
simply  arising  from  drink,  which  they  never  would  have 


AN  ILLUSTRIOUS  GARRISON.  265 

i 
done  if  they  had  been  sober.     I  never  knew  a  thing  that 

convinced  the  officers  of  the  army  I  belonged  to  of  the  truth 
of  Havelock's  'crotchet,'  as  they  called  it.  They  said,  4It  is 
a  wondrous  crotchet  I  There  is  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  it.' 
After  they  had  seen  the  army  sober  for  eight  months,  with 
the  greatest  freedom  from  crime,  the  officers  not  constantly 
in  their  regimentals  sitting  on  courts-martial,  trying  their 
men;  then  comes  in  the  liquor  and  the  old  story,  —  I  say 
they  had  overwhelming  proof,  and  I  will  defy  any  man  to 
overcome  it ;  it  is  stronger  than  an  axiom  of  Euclid,  it  is  as 
plain  as  a  post,  that  sobriety  and  this  'abstinence  question' 
was  tried  there  and  tested. 

"  Well,  now,  you  must  know  that  when  part  of  this  force 
was  besieged  in  a  place  called  Jellalabad,  the  garrison  of 
which,  you  know,  stood  out  for  some  months  under  every  kind 
of  privation.     There  were  five  hundred  men  told  off  daily 
for  working  with  spades  to  raise  bastions  around  the  place, 
and  repair  the  walls.     Government  gave  them  the  name  of 
the  4  illustrious  garrison,'  in  consequence  of  their  bearing  all 
the  extremes  of  hunger  and  deprivation,  and  of  their  exploits 
both  in  the  open  field  and  in  the  defence  of  the  place.     My 
good  friends,  the  whole  of  that  garrison  were   upon  cold 
water.     They  did  their  work  like  men  ;  they  worked  all  day, 
and  they  sometimes  got  only  half,  sometimes  only  quarter 
rations ;  they  were  in  the  ruddiest  health ;  they  were  hungry 
men,  but,  blessed  be  God,  they  were  never  drunken  men." 
Here  is  Sir  Henry  Havelock's  account  of  it:  — 
"Without  fear  of  contradiction  it  may  be  asserted  that 
not  only  has  the  amount  of  the  laborious  work  they  have 
completed   without  this  factitious  aid  been   surprising,  but 
the  state  and  the  garrison  have  gained  full  one   third  in 
manual  exertion  by  their  entire  sobriety.     Every  hand  has 
been  constantly  employed  with  the  shovel  and  pickaxe.     If 


266  SIR  HENRY  HAYELOCK'S  TESTIMONY. 

there  had  been  a  spirit  ration,  one  third  of  the  labor  would 
have  been  diminished  in  consequence  of  soldiers  becoming 
the  inmates  of  the  hospital  and  guard-houses,  or  coming  to 
their  work  with  fevered  brain  and  trembling  hand,  or  sulky 
and  disaffected  after  the  protracted  debauch.  Now  all  is 
health^  cheerfulness,  industry,  and  resolution. 

"The  energy  with  which  our  troops  labored  in  restor- 
ing the  defences  exceeds  all  calculation,  and  beggars  all 
commendation.  They  worked  like  men  struggling  for  their 
existence,  but  with  as  much  cheerfulness  and  good  humor 
as  industry  and  perseverance.  They  had  no  rum  to  para- 
lyze their  nerves,  sour  their  tempers,  or  predispose  them  to 
idleness  or  sullen  discontent.  A  long  course  of  sobriety 
and  labor  had  made  men  of  mere  boys  of  recruits,  and 
brought  the  almost  raw  levy,  which  formed  two  thirds  of  the 
array  of  the  13th  light  infantry,  to  the  firm  standard  of  the 
Roman  discipline.  They  are  now  instructed  to  entrench 
themselves  nightly,  as  well  as  to  fight  a  battle  every  day. 

"It  has  been  proved  that  the  troops  can  make  forced 
marches  of  forty  miles,  and  storm  a  fortress  in  forty-five 
minutes,  without  the  aid  of  rum,  behaving,  after  success, 
with  a  forbearance  and  humanity  unparalleled  in  history. 
Let  it  not  henceforth  be  argued  that  distilled  spirits  are  an 
indispensable  portion  of  a  soldier's  ration." 

Dr.  Richardson,  Sir  William  Gull,  Sir  Henry  Thompson, 
and  other  eminent  physicians  deal  with  this  question  on 
scientific  grounds.  Now  I  know  nothing  about  scientific 
grounds ;  I  cannot  explain  to  the  people  how  alcohol  affects 
the  system,  affects  the  stomach,  or  affects  the  blood  ;  I  am 
ignorant  of  that,  but  we  are  glad  to  have  other  people  tell 
us.  But  when  they  have  moulded  the  nail  and  put  it  in  the 
place  where  it  is  to  go,  we  may  be  able  to  come  up  and  hit  it 
and  help  drive  it  where  it  should  be.  We  ignorant  and 


A  PRACTICAL  ILLUSTRATION. 


267 


illiterate  people  go  among  what  are  called  the  common 
classes  with  our  common  notions,  and  once  in  a  while  a 
common  man  may  affect  a  common  mind  by  a  very  common- 
place illustration.  I  once  heard  a  man  affect  an  audience 
wonderfully  by  what  he  said.  Dr.  Richardson  would  have 
put  it  in  much  better  shape,  but  the  man  did  a  good  work  by 
his  method  of  putting  the  point.  He  said  :  — 

"They  tell  us  that  alcohol  gives 
strength  and  nourishment.  Now  it  does 
not ;  it  gives  stimulus." 

"But,"  says  his  opponent, 
"there  can  be  no  stimulus  with- 
out some  nourishment." 

His  reply  was,  "  You  sit  down 
on  a  hornet's  nest,  and  it 's  very 
quickening,  but  it  is  not  nourish- 
ing." 

When  we  do  not  understand 
the  science  of  the  question, 
we  are  forced  to  use  common 
illustrations ;  I  give  you  another 
as  a  specimen.  A  man  once  said 
to  a  friend  of  mine,  — 

"  You   are   fighting  whiskey ; 
whiskey  has  done  a  great  deal  of  good ;  why,  whiskey  has 
saved  a  great  many  lives." 

My  friend  said,  "What  do  you  mean?" 

"  Why,"  said  the  man,  "  I  mean  that  whiskey  has  saved  a 
great  many  lives." 

"Well,"  said  my  friend,  "you  remind  me  of  a  composi- 
tion a  boy  wrote  on  the  subject  of  a  pin. 

"  '  A  pin  is  a  very  queer  sort  of  a  thing.     It  has  a  round 

head  and  a  sharp  point ;  and  if  you  stick  pins  into  you,  they 
17 


STIMULUS. 


268  AN  INTERESTING  COMPOSITION. 

hurts.  Women  use  pins  to  pin  on  their  cuffs  and  collars,  and 
men  use  pins  when  the  buttons  is  off.  You  can  get  pins  for 
five  cents  a  paper ;  but  if  you  swallow  them,  they  will  kill 
you ;  but  they  have  saved  thousands  of  lives.' 

"  The  teacher  said :  '  Why,  Thomas,  what  do  you  mean  by 
that  ?  '     Said  the  boy :  4  By  people  not  swallowin'  of  'em.'  " 

I  say  there  is  no  good  in  intoxicating  liquors  as  a  bever- 
age. "Yes,  but,"  say  some,  "I  know  better  than  that." 
Once  when  I  was  crossing  the  Atlantic  in  the  steamship 
"America,"  a  person  on  board,  who  called  himself  a  gentle- 
man, I  suppose,  tried  to  insult  me ;  but  such  a  man  never 
can  insult  me,  and  so  he  failed.  "  What !  "  said  he,  "  going 
to  Great  Britain  to  tell  the  Englishman  that  he  must  give  up 
his  beer!  Why,  beer  is  the  life  of  an  Englishman."  I 
thought  to  myself,  "What  a  beery  sort  of  existence  that 
must  be."  But  some  say,  "  I  can  do  better  with  beer  than 
without  it."  I  doubt  it.  Have  you  ever  tried  long  enough? 
Remember  that  in  every  one  hundred  gallons  of  beer  there 
are  ninety-one  and  a  half  gallons  of  water,  arid  five  gallons 
of  alcohol.  So  far  you  have  water  and  poison ;  there  is  no 
nutriment  yet ;  about  three  gallons  of  what  is  called  extrac- 
tive is  all  the  nourishment  you  can  obtain.  If  you  boil  a 
gallon  of  beer,  you  will  find  all  the  nourishment  sticking  to 
the  bottom  of  the  kettle ;  and  a  nice-looking  mess  it  is,  too. 
Baron  Liebig  says  that  if  a  man  drinks  eight  quarts  of  the 
strongest  ale  per  day,  he  gets  as  much  nourishment  as  there 
is  in  the  flour  which  you  can  hold  on  the  point  of  a  knife ; 
and  if  he  drinks  that  quantity  every  day  in  the  year,  he  will 
get  as  much  nourishment  as  there  is  in  a  five-pound  loaf  of 
bread  or  about  three  pounds  of  meat.  But  a  man  may  say : 
"  I  can  do  more  work  under  the  influence  of  the  beer  than 
without  it."  You  may.  A  man  under  the  influence  of 
stimulants  may  lift  more  than  at  other  times ;  but  is  that  any 


STIMULUS  NOT  STRENGTH.  269 

good  to  him  ?  Suppose  a  horse  cannot  start  a  very  heavy 
load,  and  you  say  he  shall  do  it.  You  pull  up  the  reins  and 
shout,  and  the  horse  puts  his  shoulder  to  the  collar,  and 
strains  with  all  his  might,  but  he  does  n't  start.  Your  neigh- 
bor says  he  can't  start,  but  you  say  he  shall.  You  pull  up 
the  reins  again ;  the  horse  puts  his  shoulder  to  the  collar, 
every  nerve  stands  out  in  bold  relief ;  you  take  that  big  black 
whip  of  yours,  and,  as  he  is  straining  to  the  utmost,  you  hit 
him  a  terrible  crack  on  the  flank,  and  he  starts  the  load. 
But  did  you  give  him  strength?  No,  you  gave  him  stimu- 
lus ;  you  made  him  do  what  he  had  no  right  to  do,  and  what 
you  had  no  right  to  make  him  do.  So,  as  I  said  just  now, 
any  man  who  does  work  under  the  influence  of  stimulant,  — 
whether  in  the  coal  pit  or  in  the  iron  mine,  whether  at  the 
forge  or  at  the  bench,  on  the  platform  or  in  the  pulpit,  — 
that  he  could  not  do  without  it,  does  it  to  the  damage  of  his 
constitution ;  pay-day  will  come  by  and  by.  Nature  is  a 
hard  creditor ;  interest  accumulates,  and  when  pay-day 
comes,  the  man  is  broken  down  far  in  advance  of  his  time. 
I  say  there  is  no  good  in  beer,  but  there  is  positive  evil. 
Is  there  any  gratification  ?  If  there  is,  it  is  all  in  the  time 
of  drinking.  Did  you  ever  experience  any  gratification  the 
next  morning  after  a  night  of  drinking?  The  gratification 
was  produced  by  stimulating  the  system.  Then  there  is  a  reac- 
tion,—  it  must  come.  My  word  for  it,  the  beer  and  spirit 
drinkers  enjoy  less  of  this  world's  good  than  any  other  class 
of  men  among  us ;  they  are  either  in  fiery  excitement,  their 
brain  bewildered,  their  senses  confused,  and  their  capacity  to 
enjoy  destroyed  for  the  time  being,  or  else  they  are  recover- 
ing from  excess  of  excitement,  and  feel  most  miserable  and 
wretched.  Then  do  not  common  sense  and  sound  judgment 
dictate  to  you  to  abandon  intoxicating  liquors  forever  ? 


CHAPTER  XII. 


WHO  ARE  THE  VICTIMS?  —  LIFE  IN  A  BAR-ROOM  —  LIFE 
HISTORIES  TRACED  IN  TEARS  AND  WRITTEN  IN  BLOOD. 

The  Next  Morning  After  a  Spree  —  Maddening  Thirst  —  A  Visit  to  a  Gin 
Shop  —  Scenes  Inside  —  Victims  at  the  Bar  —  Horrible  Wrecks  and 
Bloated  Sots  —  The  Suicide's  Death-bed  —  Dreadful  Scenes  —  The  Ruling 
Passion  Strong  in  Death  —  " Mary!  Mary!  I  Have  Signed  the  Pledge  "  — 
The  Sailor's  Speech  —  A  Realistic  Dream  —  Life  Histories  Traced  in  Tears 
and  Written  in  Blood  —  Women  who  Drink  in  Low  Life  —  Fearful  Degra- 
dation —  The  Dead  Mother  and  Her  Babe  —  The  Negro  Jury's  Ridiculous 
Verdict  —  Women  Who  Drink  in  High  Life  —  A  Sad  Story  —  An  Awful 
Death  —  An  Audience  of  Drunkards —  James  McCurrey — Inviting  a  Sot 
to  Sleep  in  His  House  —  Burning  the  Bed  Clothes  Next  Day  —  Noble  Act 
of  a  Noble  Man  — What  Followed  — The  Prize-Fighter's  Story  — Saved 
by  Kindness  —  The  History  of  a  Grog-shop  Fiddler  —  The  Shipwreck  — 
Man  the  Lifeboat ! 

•&  _<&  ^^f^T  is  a  gross  insult  to  call  a 
man  a  fool.  Every  man  would 
resent  it.  But  in  the  suffer- 
ing of  the  next  morning  after 
a  night  of  dissipation  and  de- 
bauchery, how  then?  Did 
you  never  lie  in  your  bed 
wondering  how  you  came  there,  with 
disturbed  conscience,  aching  head, 
lips  dry  and  parched,  temples  throb- 
bing, racking  brain,  hot,  feverish 
tongue  ?  Did  you  never,  in  the  terrible  suffering  that  is  sure 
to  follow  a  night  of  dissolute  revelry,  clasp  your  burning 
hands  and  bitterly  call  yourself  "  Fool !  fool !  "  and  add :  "  I 
made  a  miserable  fool  of  myself  last  night,  and  now  I  am 

270 


TERRIBLE   CRAVING  FOR  LIQUOR. 


271 


suffering  these  unutterable  torments!  What  a  fool  I am /" 
If  the  first  glass  brought  at  once  the  suffering  of  the 
reaction,  and  the  excitement  came  the  next  morning,  who 

would  drink?  If  delirium  tremens 
came  first,  and  the  fun  after,  who 
would  drink  ?  My  friend,  it  does 
not  pay  to  begin.  First,  you  tol- 
erate the  drink;  then  touch  and 
taste  it;  then 
jest  and  laugh 
at  it ;  and  then 
revel  in  it. 
What  may  it 
come  to  when 
it  becomes 
your  master  ? 
A  man  will  not 
then  drink  for 
sociability  and 
with,  pleasant 
companions, 
but  for  the  ex- 
citement ;  not 
for  the  plea- 
sure of  drink, 
hntto  get  drunk, 
In  solitude  he 
will  gulp  down 
glass  after  glass 
of  anything 
that  will  gratify  his  morbid  appetite,  carrying  liquor  with 
him  in  his  pocket;  getting  up  in  the  night  and  crawling 
round  in  the  dark  to  find  it;  and  then  sucking  out  of  a 


WHAT  A  FOOL   I   AM.' 


272  THE   GIX  FIEND. 

bottle  anything  that  will  stay  this  morbid  craving.  There  is  no 
outbreak  of  convivial  cheer  now,  no  poetry,  no  wreath  around 
the  goblet ;  but  a  mad  furious  instinct  for  solitary  excess. 

A  celebrated  surgeon  once  said :  "  I  feel  the  most  terrible 
and  infernal  craving  that  anyone  out  of  hell  can  imagine. 
It  is  not  because  I  want  to  drink.  I  do  not  want  to  drink. 
It  is  because  I  want  to  feel  drunk.  I  am  miserable  and  gloomy 
without  knowing  why.  Everything  seems  going  wrong.  I 
shudder  at  times,  shed  tears,  and  fight  against  this  longing. 
Oh,  this  terrible  —  this  horrible  desire  to  get  drunk !  " 

Look  at  the  low  grog-shops  and  drinking-houses,  and  see 
the  miserable  victims  of  this  damning  vice.  Tell  them  they 
are  drinking  oil  of  vitriol,  oil  of  turpentine,  sulphuric  acid, 
benzine,  or  any  other  acrid  and  poisonous  compound;  tell 
them  that  the  tap  they  drink  from  spurts  corroding  fire,  and 
they  will  still  drink  on ;  and  to  get  drunk  they  will  drink 
themselves  to  death.  To  be  a  drunkard!  to  lead  a  drunk- 
ard's life!  —  what  a  history  is  that;  commencing  with  the 
time  when  he  was  a  pure,  rosy-cheeked  boy,  then  on  through 
wasted  youth,  blasted  manhood,  days  of  alternate  revelling 
and  cursing,  a  life  of  unrelieved  misery,  a  death  of  shame 
and  anguish.  Is  it  wise  to  drink? 

Go,  if  you  please,  into  one  of  your  drinking-rooms,  one  of 
your  gin-shops,  and  see  men  standing  at  the  counter.  Look 
at  that  pale-faced,  pallid-looking  gin-drinker;  see  his  eyes, 
how  large  they  are,  how  deeply  sunken  in  the  sockets,  as  with 
his  fingers,  like  the  claws  of  an  unclean  bird,  he  clutches  that 
glass  of  gin.  Why,  he  looks  almost  as  if  he  had  come  up 
out  of  his  grave  to  get  his  gin  and  had  forgotten  the  way 
back  again.  It  is  horrible  to  look  at  him.  And  yet  that  is  a 
man !  See,  there  is  another  one,  the  dull  waters  of  disease 
stagnant  in  his  eye ;  sensuality  seated  upon  his  cracked, 
swollen,  parched  lip ;  see  him  gibbering  in  all  the  idiocy  of 


WHAT  DRINK  DOES.  273 

drunkenness.  That  is  a  man  !  I  know  it  is  sometimes  hard 
to  look  at  the  blear-eyed,  bloated  sot,  and  feel,  "  That  is  a 
man."  Have  you  ever  seen  that  admirable  picture  by  Cruik- 
shank,  "  The  man  that  thinks  and  acts,  and  the  thing  that 
drinks  and  smokes  ?  "  I  have  looked  at  the  two,  and  yet  the 
one  is  just  as  much  a  man  as  the  other.  God  created  him 
with  the  same  faculties,  "  in  the  image  of  God  created  He 
him."  He  gave  him  dominion  over  the  beasts  of  the  field, 
and  crowned  him  lord  of  creation.  That  a  man  ?  A  blear- 
eyed,  bloated  thing  like  that?  A  man? 

God  has  given  power  and  dominion  to  man,  and  made  him 
nature's  king.  What  has  broken  his  sceptre  ?  What  has 
torn  the  imperial  crown  from  his  brow  and  debased  him  below 
the  beasts?  Drunkenness.  God  has  given  to  man  reason, 
and  set  before  him  a  destiny  high  and  glorious,  reaching  into 
eternity.  What  has  dethroned  his  reason  and  hidden  her 
bright  beams  in  "mystic  clouds  that  roll  around  the  shat- 
tered temple  of  the  human  soul,"  curtained  in  midnight? 
Drunkenness.  God  has  given  him  a  healthy  body;  he  is 
smitten  with  disease  from  head  to  foot.  His  body,  so 
"  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made,"  is  now  a  mass  of  corrup- 
tion more  hideous  than  the  leprosy  of  Naaman  or  the  sores 
of  Lazarus.  What  has  done  it?  The  drink,  the  drink  has 
done  it. 

You  say,  "  but  then  I  would  give  it  up."  You  cannot. 
But  perhaps  that  word  should  not  be  used;  at  least,  we 
will  say  that  you  find  it  harder  to  give  it  up  than  you  ever 
dreamed  of.  I  have  heard  some  men  declare,  "  I  cannot  do 
it ; "  and  an  educated  man  once  said,  "  Doctor,  if  a  glass  of 
brandy  were  set  before  me,  and  I  knew  that  if  I  drank 
it  I  should  sink  the  next  minute  into  an  everlasting  hell,  I  'd 
drink  it."  The  man  was  on  his  death-bed,  and  the  fact  is 
related  in  the  Rev.  W.  Reid's  Temperance  Encyclopaedia. 


274  A  DREADFUL  SCENE. 

A  physician  of  Greenock  once  told  me :  "  Mr.  Gough,  a  few 
weeks  since,  I  had  a  most  horrible  case.  A  man,  when  intox- 
icated, cut  his  throat.  I  sewed  the  wound  up  as  well  as  I 
could,  but  I  knew  the  poor  fellow  would  die.  They  sent  for 
a  minister.  The  wounded  man  lay  on  his  back  and  waved 
his  hand,  but  could  scarcely  articulate  to  express  his  mean- 
ing. He  was  asked,  4  Do  you  want  a  minister  ? '  He  shook 
his  head,  waved  his  hand  again,  and  moved  his  lips.  The 
doctor  stooped  and  put  his  ear  to  the  man's  mouth,  but  he 
could  not  understand  what  he  said.  At  last,  the  man  fairly 
pinched  the  wound  closely  together  with  his  fingers,  and 
feebly  articulated,  '  Doctor,  for  Christ's  sake  give  me  anothei 
glass.' "  I  say  no  man  has  power  to  describe  or  imagination 
to  conceive  an  appetite  like  that.  You  may  form  some  con- 
ception of  it  by  seeing  what  men  will  give  up  to  gratify  it, 
We  are  in  the  habit  of  calling  the  drunkard  a  brute.  Some- 
times we  are  thrilled  with  indignation  when  we  hear  of  the 
brutal  outrages  perpetrated  under  the  influence  of  drink. 
But  they  are  men,  —  debased  and  degraded,  I  grant  you,  but 
still  they  are  men. 

I  heard  a  man  say,  —  and  I  shall  never  forget  it,  —  "  Oh ! 
what  a  time  I  had  of  it  before  I  signed  the  pledge !  I  was. 
a  poor,  miserable  drunkard,  and  I  had  never  thought  of  my 
wife  with  any  sort  of  kindness  for  years ;  but  the  moment  1. 
put  my  name  to  the  pledge  the  first  thought  that  came  into 
my  mind  was,  —  I  wonder  how  Mary  will  feel  when  I  tell  her 
I  have  signed  it.  Poor  thing,  she  is  so  weak  and  feeble,  she 
will  faint  away ;  and  I  did  not  know  how  I  should  tell  her., 
When  I  went  home,  there  she  was,  crouching  over  a  fire- 
place, with  her  fingers  over  a  few  bits  of  embers.  When  1 
went  in,  she  did  not  look  up,  she  never  used  to.  Sometimes 
it  was  a  blow,  sometimes  a  kick,  sometimes  a  curse,  and  her 
heart  was  nearly  broken.  She  did  not  look  up.  Thinks  I  to.' 


A   STORY   OF   REAL   LIFE. 


275 


myself,  what  shall  I  do  ?  I  shuffled  with  my  feet ;  she  did 
not  turn  round.  I  said,  4  Mary !  Mary ! '  c  Well.'  '  I  think 
you  work  too  hard,  Mary ;  I  think  you  are  getting  a  good 
deal  thinner  than  you  used  to  be,  Mary ;  you  work  a  great 
deal  too  much,  Mary.'  '  Work ! '  said  she.  '  I  must  work ; 
what  should  we  do  ?  The  children  have  no  bread  for  sup- 
per ; '  and  she  bowed  her  head.  '  Mary,  you  need  not  work 
so  hard,  because  I  will  help  you.'  'You?'  'Mary,  Mary, 

I'  ve  signed  the 
pledge.'  She  got 
up,  and  then  fell 
fainting  in  my 
arms,  and  as  that 
sweet  face  lay 
there,  I  shall 
never  forget  it. 
Oh,  how  I  cried! 
The  tears  seemed 
like  boiling  water 
down  my  face,  and 
they  fell  in  the 
face  of  my  wife. 
The  lids  of  her 
eyes  were  so  blue, 
I  feared  she  would  never  come  to  again ;  but  she  is  alive 
and  well,  and  thanks  God  night  and  morning  for  the  temper- 
ance pledge.  I  have  now  a  little  piece  of  land  of  my  own, 
and  my  children  go  to  Sabbath  school,  but  I  never  shall 
forget  how  I  felt  when  I  said,  '  Mary,  Mary,  I  have  signed 
the  pledge.' " 

I  remember  distinctly  a  little  speech  I  once  heard  in  the 
Bethel.  A  sailor  stood  up  and  said  he  had  been  a  regular 
brute  to  his  wife.  He  used  to  think  nothing  of  coming  home 


MARY,   MARY,   I 'VE   SIGNED  THE  PLEDGE." 


276 


THE   SAILOR'S   STORY. 


and  knocking  her  down  without  the  slightest  provocation. 
"  But,"  he  said,  "  my  wife  never  used  to  cry ;  I  thought  she 
never  did.  I  positively,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  have  knocked 
her  down,  and  she  has  got  up  and  smiled  at  me.  I  thought 
Sally  never  cried;  I  really  thought  she  had  not  a  tear  to 


IT   CAME    NEARER   AND    NEARER.' 


shed ;  but  I  drank,  and  drank,  and  I  abused  her  shamefully. 
One  night,  after  abusing  her  pretty  badly,  I  lay  down  on  the 
bed  and  fell  asleep,  and  I  had  a  dream.  I  dreamed  I  was  ship- 
wrecked, and  that  a  lot  of  us  clung  to  the  floating  wreckage, 
and  there  we  all  were,  clinging  for  dear  life,  until  at  last  all 
were  washed  off  but  me,  and  there  I  was,  lashed  to  the 


BROKEN-HEARTED  WOMEN".  277 

broken  spars,  tossing  and  tumbling  in  the  water.  At  a 
distance  I  thought  I  saw  one  of  those  little,  nasty,  sharp, 
waves,  —  not  one  of  the  long  rolling  swells,  but  it  seemed  to 
be  a  little  spiteful  thing  that  kept  bobbing  up  and  down 
with  considerable  force ;  and  it  glistened  as  if  there  was  a 
light  gleaming  upon  it,  and  it  came  nearer  and  nearer ;  and 
I  watched  it,  and  it  grew  smaller  and  smaller  until  it  seemed 
almost  like  a  star,  and  the  whole  force  of  the  waves  seemed 
to  dash  into  my  face ;  and  the  water  felt  warm  and  it  woke 
me ;  and  there  was  Sally  leaning  over  me,  and  the  tears 
raining  down  on  my  face,  and,  for  the  first  time,  I  felt  she 
did  cry,  —  and  such  hot  tears  they  were,  they  almost  scalded 
me.  I  sprang  up,  and  on  my  knees  swore  to  Sally  that  I 
would  never  again  ill  use  her.  And  I  never  have." 

Think  of  the  sufferings  of  all  who  are  connected  with  an 
intemperate  man,  —  not  only  of  his  children,  but  of  his  wife. 
I  have  had  many  communications  from  wives  of  drunkards, 
from  many  a  broken-hearted  woman  whose  life  is  a  burden  to 
her,  from  those  who  started  with  as  fair  and  bright  prospects 
as  many  that  are  entering  life  to-day,  and  whose  prospects 
have  been  blasted  and  blighted.  If  I  could  read  you  some 
sentences  from  those  letters,  you  would  feel  that  they  were 
prompted  by  a  heart  wrung  with  terrible  anguish.  A 
drunkard's  wife,  what  is  she  ?  Think  of  it,  young  women, 
think  of  it?  Linked  for  life  to  a  man  you  cannot  respect, 
tied  to  him  by  bonds  that  you  feel  cannot  be  broken?  I 
believe  that,  in  the  judgment  day,  the  crushed,  the  bruised, 
the  broken-hearted  women  will  rise  against  those  who  have 
crushed  them ;  and  that  they  will  testify  in  trumpet  tones 
against  those  who  have  folded  their  arms  and  looked  coolly 
on  and  seen  them  trampled  beneath  the  iron  hoof  of  the 
destroyer,  without  so  much  as  lifting  a  finger  to  stem  the  tide 
of  burning  desolation.  The  history  of  a  drunkard's  wife 


278  HARROWING   SCENES. 

might  be   traced  in  tears  and  written  in  blood,  and  there 
would  not  be  a  man  with  nerve  enough  to  read  it. 

Woman,  too,  more  often  sinned  against,  is  yet  sometimes 
the  sinner  by  means  of  intoxicants.  Every  holy  instinct  and 
every  womanly  shame  have  been  thus  destroyed.  The  Pro- 
phet Isaiah,  when  describing  the  endurance  of  God's  love 
towards  Israel,  calls  to  mind  the  devotion  of  a  woman  to  her 
offspring,  and  asks,  "Can  a  woman  forget  her  sucking  child, 
that  she  should  not  have  compassion  on  the  fruit  of  her 
womb?"  Yes,  we  reply,  the  drunken  one  can,  and  often 
does.  My  valued  friend,  Mr.  Samuel  Bowly,  gives  us  an 
instance  of  this  in  the  mother  at  Bristol,  who  left  her  infant 
of  a  few  weeks  old  for  sixteen  hours,  which  time  she  spent 
in  a  gin-palace ;  and  when  brought  back  in  an  intoxicated 
state,  her  poor  neglected  baby  was  famished  to  death.  It 
had  wailed  forth  its  tender  life  piteously  and  painfully,  and 
there  was  none  to  heed  its  cries  till  the  little  sufferer  was 
relieved  by  death.  Can  you  not  loathe  the  drink,  the  mate- 
rial that  will  cause  such  an  unnatural  crime  as  this  ? 

"  I  met,"  says  Prof.  Henry  Cooper,  of  Cambridge,  "  a  few 
days  since,  an  account  of  a  young  mother  whose  baby  was 
but  sixteen  months  old,  who  shut  herself  up  in  a  room  and 
there  drunk  herself  to  death.  When  the  police  broke  in, 
they  found  her  dead,  an  empty  pint-and-a-half  gin  bottle  by 
her  side,  and  her  poor  baby  in  vain  endeavoring  to  extract  its 
food  from  her  cold  and  lifeless  breasts.  The  coroner's  in- 
quest brought  in  a  verdict  of  'died  by  visitation  of  God.' 
But  what  think  you  ?  Ought  it  not  to  have  been  '  suicide 
from  drink'?" 

There  have  been  verdicts  given  by  coroners'  juries,  where, 
although  drunkenness  was  evidently  the  cause  of  death,  the 
verdict  was,  "died  by  the  visitation  of  God,"  etc.  In  one 
case  a  verdict  of  this  kind  was  returned  when  a  man  expired 


VERDICTS   OF  CORONERS'    JURIES.  279 

while  sustaining  a  bet  as  to  who  could  drink  the  largest 
quantity  of  spirits  at  a  time.  In  another  instance  a  man 
was  found  buried  in  snow,  where  he  had  fallen  while  in 
an  intoxicated  state.  The  verdict  of  the  jury  was,  "  died  of 
fatigue  and  exposure  to  the  cold."  In  another  case  of  sud- 
den death  from  intoxication,  the  verdict  was,  "  died  in  a  fit." 
These  verdicts  are  contemptible.  There  is  a  distinction  be- 
tween contemptible  and  ridiculous.  A  man  may  be  absurd 


WASHED   ASHOKE    AND    FKIZ   TO   DEATH.' 


and  ridiculous,  and  yet  not  contemptible.  Here  is  an 
example  of  a  ridiculous  verdict:  A  dead  man  was  found 
on  the  shores  of  New  Jersey,  with  a  wound  011  the  back  of 
his  head.  A  colored  jury  was  impanelled  and  the  verdict 
was,  "that  the  deceased  came  to  his  death  by  a  blow  on  the 
back  of  his  head  —  fust;  given  by  some  person  or  persons 
unknown  to  the  jury ;  then  he  was  thrown  overboard  and  was 
drowned  —  second ;  thirdly,  he  was  washed  ashore  and  friz 
to  death."  That  verdict  was  ridiculous  and  absurd,  but  it 
was  not  contemptible,  because  there  was  an  evident  desire  to 
get  at  the  truth,  and  that  is  the  distinction. 


280  DISGRACE  IN  HIGH  LIFE. 

"  It  is  not  the  poor  woman  only,  or  the  one  in  an  inferior 
social  position  that  drink  has  depraved."  I  quote  from  Prof. 
Cooper.  "I  have  lately  heard  a  painful  case  of  this  degrada- 
tion in  one  who  occupied  a  good  position  in  society,  a  young 
lady  who  resided  in  one  of  the  most  fashionable  parts  of  Bir- 
mingham. She  was  amiable,  beautiful,  highly  accomplished 
and  educated,  the  delight  of  the  circle  in  which  she  moved, 
and  the  good  angel  to  administer  to  the  wants  of  those  below 
her  in  life.  She  was  daily  to  be  seen  on  some  errand  of 
mercy,  driving  in  the  brougham  of  her  brother  with  whom 
she  lived.  Her  brother  received  much  company,  and  the 
wine  was  freely  circulated  at  his  hospitable  board.  Without 
thinking  of  the  danger,  she  partook  with  her  guests  and 
began  to  like  wine.  The  taste  grew  upon  her,  and  at  length 
she  craved  it.  She  imperceptibly  acquired  the  habit  of 
taking  it  several  times  a  day,  and  always  kept  it  in  her 
boudoir  or  private  room.  After  a  while  it  was  perceived 
that  she  was  often  in  an  unfit  state  to  receive  company,  her 
errands  of  benevolence  were  forgotten,  and  she  herself 
became  an  object  of  pity  to  her  friends.  Remonstrance  was 
tried  in  vain ;  she  was  beyond  recovery,  deeply  enslaved  by 
this  vice.  She  eventually  threw  over  all  restraint  and  was 
scarcely  sober  night  or  day.  Her  broken-hearted  brother, 
unable  to  endure  her  disgrace  any  longer,  resolved  to  banish 
her  from  his  home.  She  was  sent  to  Guernsey  with  an 
allowance  of  X150  a  year.  There  she  lived  a  year  or  two, 
spending  all  her  income  in  the  indulgence  of  her  love  for 
drink,  and  sank  lower  and  lower,  even  to  the  lowest  depth 
of  degradation.  Then  it  happened,  that,  after  a  more  than 
usually  severe  debauch,  she  became  seriously  ill,  and  the 
medical  man  who  recites  this  tale  was  sent  for  about  four 
days  before  her  death.  He  found  her  the  remains  of  a  once 
noble-looking  woman,  disfigured  through  her  degrading  vice, 


AN  AWFUL  DEATH.  281 

evidently  once  enjoying  a  respectable  social  position,  but 
then  stretched  on  a  miserable  bed,  in  a  wretched  attic,  in  a 
low  neighborhood.  Though  made  aware  of  her  approaching 
dissolution,  she  would  listen  to  -no  religious  appeal ;  her  only 
thought,  her  only  wish,  her  only  cry,  was  for  'gin.'  She 
uttered  impious  oaths  and  blasphemies  in  reply  to  all  entrea- 
ties to  prepare  for  her  death,  and  died  in  an  awful  paroxysm, 
shrieking,  c  Gin !  gin  !  gin ! '  What  can  be  more  appalling 
than  such  a  scene  as  this?  Friend  of  humanity,  Christian, 
we  ask  you  again,  'Can  you  love  the  material  that  pro- 
duces such  ruin  as  this  ? ' ' 

I  have  great  sympathy  for  the  poor  and  fallen.  Some  say, 
"  Yes,  but  they  have  brought  it  upon  themselves."  "  Judge 
not,  that  ye  be  not  judged :  for  with  what  measure  ye  mete  it 
shall  be  measured  to  you  again."  What  would  become  of 
you  or  I  if  He  who  was  set  before  us  as  a  pattern  should 
judge  as  you  judge?  "Let  them  alone,  they  are  polluted, 
depraved,  debased;  the  jaws  of  hell  are  ready  to  swallow 
them  up ;  let  them  alone ;  they  have  brought  it  upon  them- 
selves." What  a  horrible  sight  would  this  world  present  to 
the  angels  who  should  look  down  upon  it,  if  these  poor  fallen 
men  and  women  were  left  in  despair  and  hopelessness  be- 
cause they  brought  ruin  upon  themselves !  But  oh !  He 
manifested  his  love  for  us,  in  that  while  we  were  yet  sin- 
ners, He  died  for  us.  Oh !  look  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  —  who 
is  that  toiling  beneath  the  burden  of  his  cross,  the  crown  of 
thorns  piercing  his  temples,  and  the  drops  of  blood  streaming 
down  his  face  ?  See  him  there,  lifted  between  the  heavens 
and  the  earth,  between  two  thieves  nailed  to  the  accursed 
tree !  Not  one  groan,  not  one  moan  of  anguish,  not  one  cry 
but  this :  "  Eloi,  eloi,  lama  Sabachthani  ?  "  "  My  God,  my  God, 
why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?  "  Angels  were  looking  upon  that 
scene,  and  devils  trembled  as  they  gazed  upon  it.  For  what  ? 


282 


AN  AUDIENCE  OF  DRUNKARDS. 


For  me,  for  you,  who  brought  judgment  on  ourselves  for  our 
wilful  transgressions  of  law.  Oh,  the  drunkard  is  your 
brother ;  he  is  a  man.  In  that  day  for  which  all  other  days 
were  made  he  will  be  judged  with  you.  Look  upon  him, 
then,  as  a  brother ;  a  weak-minded  brother,  perhaps,  but  still 
a  brother.  If  you  have  what  some  are  pleased  to  call  self- 
control,  if  you  possess  a  strong  physi- 
cal frame,  if  you  have  tough  nerves  so 
that  you  can  do  what  he  cannot,  will 
you  not  abandon  for  his  sake  that  which 
may  be  lawful  for  you  ?  Bring  him  up, 
stand  by  his  side,  sustain  and  support 
him  in  his  resolution. 

What  shall  we  do  with  regard  to  the 
intemperate  ?  That  is  a  question  we 
must  face.  Many  people  say:  "Why 
don't  you  get  an  audience  of  drunk- 
ards ?  "  Why,  what  should  I  do  if  I 
had  them  ?  I  am  willing  to  address  an 
audience  of  drunkards  at  any  time ; 
selected,  if  you  will ;  I  care  not  whether 
they  be  the  worst  specimens  or  not. 
I  want  to  get  at  them.  But  it  is  PER- 
SONAL APPEAL  that  is  to  do  the  work  with  the  drunkard. 
It  is  personal  interest  in  him  that  will  affect  him.  I  saw  a 
drunkard  two-and-twenty  years  ago  in  Exeter  Hall,  London, 
and  after  he  had  made  his  mark  to  the  pledge  (for  he 
could  not  write),  he  attempted  to  show  us  how  ragged  he 
was.  We  begged  him  to  cover  up  his  nakedness.  James 
McCurrey,  —  God  bless  him,  —  as  noble  a  man  as  any  in  the 
world,  stood  by  his  side,  and  said  to  him  not,  "  I  hope  you 
will  keep  that  pledge  ;  it  will  be  a  good  thing  for  you  if  you 
stick  to  it,"  thereby  conveying  an  idea  that  no  confidence 


A   BAG   SHOW. 


A  NEW  METHOD  OF  INSTRUCTION. 


283 


could  be  placed  in  his  word.  But  "  Where  are  you  going  to 
sleep  to-night?"  "Where  I  slept  last  night."  "Where  is 
that?"  "In  the  streets."  "Come  home  with  me."  And  I 
tell  you,  my  friends,  there  is  something  grand  in  such  an 
invitation  as  that.  They  went  away  together.  James 
McCurrey  told  me  that  his  wife  burnt  the  bed-clothes  the 
next  morning ;  but  he  added :  "  What  is  a  set  of  bed-clothes 
compared  with  the  salvation  of  a  man?" 
That  man  kept  his  pledge. 

His  after-history  is  exceedingly  interest- 
ing. He  was  a  prize-fighter, 
broken  down  by  dissipation, 
f=*  ignorant  and  friendless.  When 
I  he  became  perfectly  sober  he 
realized  in  some  degree  his 
position  as  an  ignorant  man. 
He  worked  steadily  for  his 
benefactor  till  he  had  earned  a 
suit  of  clothes,  and  one  shilling 
with  which  he  purchased  some 
pictures,  a  dozen  for  a 
ha'penny,  and  went  to  the 
superintendent  of  a  Sunday 
school  and  asked  him  to  give 
him  a  position  in  the  school  as  a  teacher.  He  was  asked 
what  kind  of  boys  he  would  like.  He  said :  "  The  smallest 
boys  in  the  school ;  I  am  very  fond  of  small  boys."  So  a 
class  was  given  him,  and  as  he  sat  before  them,  he  said: 
"  Now,  boys,  I  am  going  to  teach  you,  perhaps  as  you  were 
never  taught  before.  I  am  going  to  find  out  what  you 
know."  (Remember,  this  man  did  not  know  one  letter  from 
another.)  "  I  want  to  ascertain  what  you  know,  and  when  I 
ask  you,  if  you  tell  me  true,  I  '11  give  you  a  picture  I  "  Hold- 
is 


THE   TEACHER   TAUGHT. 


284  STORY   OF  A  GROG-SHOP   FIDDLER. 

ing  a  book  open,  and  pointing  to  a  letter,  he  said  to  the  first 
boy:  "What  letter  is  that?"  The  boy  told  him.  Keeping 
his  finger  over  it,  and  holding  the  book  before  the  last  boy  in 
the  class,  he  said :  "  Now  you  point  out  the  letter  which  he 
said  is  4  A ',  so  that  I  can  be  sure."  The  boy  told  him.  He 
began  to  put  letters  together  in  the  same  way,  and  after  a 
while  put  words  together  and  learned  to  read.  After  he  had 
been  two  years  in  the  school  he  stood  up  and  told  them  that 
he  had  come  into  that  school  not  knowing  a  letter ;  he  came 
as  a  teacher,  but  the  boys  had  taught  him.  And  that  was 
not  the  greatest  advantage ;  he  believed  the  Holy  Spirit  had 
taught  him  to  give  his  heart  to  the  Saviour,  which  he  had. 
He  soon  after  took  up  the  labor  of  a  city  missionary  and 
became  an  effective  worker. 

They  are  not  all  fools  who  have  become  drunkards. 
Opposite  a  grog-shop,  in  a  certain  town,  you  might  have 
seen  a  drivelling,  idiotic  drunkard  seated  upon  a  box,  with 
a  slouched  hat  drawn  over  his  eyes  and  a  fiddle  in  his  hand, 
attempting  to  scrape  out  such  music  as  would  please  the 
company  of  inebriates  that  surrounded  him ;  and  they,  in 
turn,  attempting  to  shuffle  and  dance,  paying  the  miserable 
music-maker  his  wages  in  rum.  No  doubt  they  looked  at 
him  with  great  contempt,  thinking  themselves  superior  to 
him.  Just  look  at  him ;  what  a  fool !  See  how  he  chuckles 
as  the  glass  is  presented  to  him,  as  he  puts  it  to  his  blistered 
lips  and  quaffs  the  liquor ;  now  he  wipes  his  frothy  mouth, 
first  with  the  back  of  his  hand  and  then  with  his  palm ;  what 
a  fool !  This  was  the  man  and  his  employment  in  1840. 
That  man  signed  the  pledge,  and  in  three  years  he  was  a 
representative  in  Congress.  In  1848  that  same  man  was 
nominated  by  his  party  as  a  candidate  for  the  gubernatorial 
chair  of  the  State;  neither  did  those  who  have  heard  him  as  I 
have,  when  his  form  seemed  to  dilate  with  the  great  thoughts 


WORKING  FOR  OTHERS.  287 

to  which  he  gave  utterance  in  a  torrent  of  burning  words 
that  sunk  deep  into  the  hearts  of  his  hearers,  nor  did  the 
Congress  that  was  occasionally  electrified  by  his  eloquence  or 
melted  by  his  pathos  ever  dream  that  he  was  a  fool.  Yet 
this  poor  creature  of  1840  possessed  the  same  mind,  the 
same  genius  with  the  man  of  1848;  and  when  his  fellow- 
countrymen  proposed  him  for  and  carried  him  into  the  high 
seat  of  honor,  did  they  esteem  him  a  fool  ?  It  is  drunkenness 
that  befools  men  more  than  any  other  vice. 

I  remember  reading  that  in  the  Bosphorus  a  beautiful  jewel 
was  dropped  in  the  water,  and  they  desired  to  ascertain  the 
place  where  the  gem  had  fallen,  for  it  was  valuable ;  but  the 
surface  was  so  rough  they  could  not  discern  it.  Some  one 
proposed  to  pour  oil  on  the  water;  they  did  so,  saw  the 
jewel,  and  obtained  it.  Now  the  drunkard's  breast  is  like 
troubled  waters,  casting  up  mire  and  dirt.  Let  us  drop  the 
oil  of  sympathy  upon  the  heaving  waters,  and  just  as  sure 
as  God  put  a  jewel  there  we  will  have  it.  Bright  and  beau- 
tiful ones  are  now  shining  like  stars  in  the  firmament  of 
talent,  virtue,  morality,  and  religion,  that  have  been  brought 
to  the  surface  by  the  oil  of  sympathy.  It  makes  the  water 
clear,  so  that  we  know  just  where  to  dive. 

It  is  worth  while  to  work  for  others.  It  is  worth  some- 
thing to  save  life.  As  the  day  broke,  one  fearfully  stormy 
morning,  a  large  barque  ran  on  a  bank  of  sand,  eight  miles 
from  the  British  coast,  and  lay  there  at  the  mercy  of  the 
tempest,  filling  with  water.  She  rapidly  began  to  settle, 
the  waves  breaking  fiercly  over  her.  Her  boats  were  knocked 
to  pieces,  her  hatches  were  stove  in.  Eighteen  men  were  in 
the  rigging,  clinging  to  the  shrouds  of  that  sprung  and  broken 
foremast;  the  mainmast  was  gone.  No  hope  was  in  their 
hearts,  no  help  was  nigh.  But  is  there  no  hope,  no  help? 
They  are  seen  from  the  shore.  No  sooner  is  the  word 


288  "MAN  THE   LIFE-BOAT!" 

passed,  "  A  wreck !  a  wreck  ! "  than  the  gallant  boatmen 
spring  to  the  beach.  "  Man  the  lifeboat !  "  Yes,  but  the 
waves  are  driving  furiously  in  to  shore.  "  Man  the  lifeboat !  " 
Yes,  but  the  snow  is  drifting  in  blinding  squalls.  "  Man  the 
lifeboat ! "  One  by  one  the  noble  fellows  take  their  places. 
Out  they  dash  in  the  teeth  of  the  gale.  "  Oars  out,  my  men. 
Steady !  Oars  out ! "  They  are  knee-deep  in  water.  The 
waves  beat  upon  them;  they  are  drenched,  and  all  but 
drowned.  Yet  how  cheerfully  they  bend  their  backs  to  the 
ashen  oars.  "  Hold  on,  every  man  of  you ! "  Every  man 
holds  on  to  the  thwart  before  him,  whilst  an  immense  wave 
rolls  over,  burying  them  fathoms  deep.  They  rise  and  shake 
their  locks.  But  where  is  the  wreck?  The  weather  is  so 
thick  they  cannot  see  her.  Now  there  is  a  break  in  the  drift ; 
there  she  lies,  the  starboard  bow  the  only  part  of  the  hull 
visible.  Are  there  any  men  in  that  tangled  rigging?  Yes, 
see  !  the  rigging  is  full  of  them.  "  Now,  steady,  men,  steady. 
Keep  clear  of  the  wreck.  Steady !  Ah,  we  have  them  now." 
She  lies  alongside ;  and  one  by  one  the  poor,  half-drowned, 
half-frozen  wretches  drop  into  the  boat,  and  out  she  drifts 
into  the  boiling  sea.  Amid  the  peril  of  the  return,  with  the 
fierce  waves  hissing  after  them,  how  steadily  they  row.  And 
now  the  lights  break  upon  them  from  the  shore,  and  soon  the 
lookers-out  on  the  beach  hail  them,  "  Lifeboat,  ahoy !  Are 
they  all  safe?"  "Ay,  ay,  every  man  safe."  How  they 
cheer!  and  the  cheer  is  louder  and  more  hearty  than  that 
which  greets  the  champion  boat  in  a  race.  And  why? 
Because  these  men  have  saved  human  life. 

Are  there  no  wrecks  around  us,  wrecks  of  intellect, 
wrecks  of  genius,  wrecks  of  all  that  makes  men  noble? 
Man  the  lifeboat !  man  the  lifeboat,  and  save  them  !  See  how 
they  are  drifting.  Helm  gone,  compass  gone.  Man  the  life- 
boat !  See  how  they  are  dashed  by  the  fierce  waves  upon 


SAVE   THE   FALLEN.  289 

the  strand,  wrecked  and  ruined.  Man  the  lifeboat  and  save 
them !  And  if  so  be  that  you  help  some  poor  struggling 
soul  through  this  world's  wickedness  into  the  haven  of  peace 
and  rest,  cheer  after  cheer  from  human  voices  may  never 
salute  you;  but  the  shining  white-robed  angels  shall  smile 
upon  you,  and  God's  approval  shall  crown  your  noble 
endeavor,  and  the  souls  you  have  saved  shall  be  as  stars 
forever  in  the  crown  of  your  rejoicing. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

CURIOSITY  —  STRUGGLES  AND  TRIUMPHS   OF    MEN  OF  GENIUS 

—  STORIES   OF    INQUISITIVE    AND   MEDDLESOME   PEOPLE. 

Curiosity;  What  Is  It?  —  What  it  Has  Led  To  —  Utilizing  Steam  —  Thrown 
into  a  Madhouse  —  "  I  am  not  Mad  "  —  Left  to  Die  —  The  Kilsby  Tunnel 

—  Hidden  Quicksand  —  Solving  the  Problem  —  Stephenson's  Stupendous 
Undertaking  —  The  Electric  Telegraph  —  Early  Struggles  of  Prof.  Samuel 
Morse  —  Gloomy  Prospects  —  Help  at  Last  —  Unknown  Heroes  —  Pick- 
wick and  the  Cabman  —  A  Very  Ancient  Horse  —  An  Inquisitive  Com- 
panion—  Judging  from  Appearances  —  "What  Will  You  Give?"  —  A 
Printer's  Self-Denial  for  His  Little  Blind  Sister  — A  Noble  Act  — The 
Miser  of  Marseilles  —  His  Will  —  Why  He  Hoarded  His  Gains  —  An  Inci- 
dent in  a  Sleeping  Car  —  A  Bachelor's  Experience  —  Taking  Care  of  the 
Baby  — Shakespeare's  Skull  — Story  of  the  Philosopher  and  the  Calf's 
Tail  —  Things  We  Do  Not  Know—  Queer  Reasons  —  "  Who  Made  You  ?  " 

—  Five  Pounds  of  "  Ditto  "  —  Wonderful  Scientific  Facts. 


HE  definition  of  the  term 
curiosity,  according  to  Web- 
ster, is:  the  disposition  to 
inquire,  investigate,  or  seek 
after  knowledge  ;  a  desire  to 
gratify  the  mind  with  new 
information  on  objects  of 
interest;  inquisitiveness.  It 
is  an  element  of  our  nature  the  first 
to  be  developed ;  at  the  dawning  of 
the  intellect  comes  the  desire  to 
know ;  the  child's  first  reaching  out 
its  little  hand  to  touch,  the  first  inquiry,  "What  is  it?"  is 
its  manifestation.  "Why  is  it?  where  is  it?  when  is  it? 
how  is  it  ?  "  are  evidences  that  the  feeling  of  insatiable  curi- 
osity possesses  the  mind  in  the  dawn  of  life  ;  and  that  desire 
290 


WHAT  WE  OWE  TO  CURIOSITY.  291 

tor  knowledge  natural  to  all  ages  is  most  vivid  during  the 
earliest  period  of  life.  Feeling  the  want  of  knowledge,  the 
mind  is  eager  to  acquire  it.  Sterne  says :  "  Curiosity  seems 
woven  into  the  frame  of  every  son  and  daughter  of  Adam." 
It  is  of  curiosity,  the  desire  to  know,  that  I  would  write, 
taking  the  term  in  its  broadest  meaning,  and  highest  and 
noblest  significance. 

Strip  us  of  this  element  of  curiosity  and  the  mind  would 
doze  forever ;  content  with  objects  that  presented  them- 
selves directly  to  us,  we  should  make  no  progress,  the 
world  would  stand  still,  and  ambition  would  die.  Bulwer 
says:  "It  is  a  glorious  fever,  that  desire  to  know."  But, 
though  this  element  is  glorified  by  using  it  for  high  pur- 
poses, it  is  debased  by  using  it  for  unworthy  ends.  In 
great  minds  it  leads  to  grand  discoveries,  important  and 
useful  inventions ;  in  medium  minds,  to  storing  information 
on  facts  and  things ;  in  little  minds,  to  pitiful  peddlings  of 
gossip,  and  minding  other  people's  business.  Curiosity  is 
the  thirst  of  the  soul.  Dr.  Johnson  once  said  that  science, 
though  perhaps  the  nursling  of  interest,  was  the  daughter  of 
curiosity.  We  owe  to  the  stimulus  of  curiosity  all  we  know 
of  the  natural  world,  of  the  heavens  above  us,  or  the  earth 
beneath.  The  burning  desire  to  know,  to  investigate,  has 
overcome  every  obstacle,  confronted  privation,  scorn,  con- 
tempt, persecution,  —  yes,  even  braved  death  itself.  It  is  a 
sublime  sight  to  see  brave,  patient,  earnest  human  beings 
working  their  arduous  way,  struggling  through  the  iron  walls 
of  penury  into  the  magnificent  infinite.  How  they  have 
worked  and  suffered,  none  but  He  who  inspired  them 
knows;  the  world  sees  the  result,  and  often  receives  it  as 
a  simple  matter  of  fact,  when,  if  it  could  know  the  dark- 
ness through  which  these  men  have  struggled  into  light,  the 
price  that  has  been  paid  to  secure  that  result,  every  new  dis- 


292  A  MADMAN'S  DISCOVERY. 

covery  would  stand  out  radiant  with  glory,  and  every  discov- 
erer a  pioneer  in  the  wonderful  path  of  knowledge  that 
should  lead  the  race  of  man  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  throne 
of  the  Infinite. 

It  is  wise  to  make  ourselves  acquainted  with  the  struggles 
of  these  benefactors  in  their  progress,  and  to  know,  so  far  as 
we  may,  how  and  at  what  cost  these  results  have  been 
achieved.  The  faith  of  Columbus  in  the  existence  of  an 
unknown  continent,  which  gave  such  loftiness  and  dignity  to 
his  character,  grew  out  of  curiosity  to  learn  what  was  beyond 
the  sea,  roused  at  first  by  simple  rumors  of  an  undiscovered 
land.  But  even  he  did  not  know,  when  he  first  set  his  foot 
on  America  and  solved  the  great  mystery  of  the  ocean,  all 
we  know  to-day  of  what  his  faith  achieved  for  him  and  for 
us,  and  for  the  world.  For  nearl}7-  a  thousand  years  how 
many  men  of  iron  mould,  of  unflinching  nerve,  of  undoubted 
skill,  the  picked  men  of  the  maritime  world,  have  been 
worsted  in  the  unequal  conflict  with  the  awful  powers  of 
nature,  impelled  and  sustained  by  the  curiosity  to  solve  the 
question,  "  Is  there  a  northwest  passage  ?  " 

Solomon  De  Caus,  a  Norman,  was  perhaps  the  man  who 
first  projected  the  idea  of  moving  ships  and  carriages  by 
steam.  He  presented  his  plan  to  the  French  king,  then  tried 
the  church,  and,  following  a  cardinal  too  perse veringly,  was 
by  him  thrown  into  a  mad-house.  When  the  Marquis  of 
Worcester  went  in  1641  to  visit  him,  a  frightful  face  appeared 
behind  the  bars,  and  a  hoarse  voice  exclaimed,  "I  am  not 
mad,  I  am  not  mad  !  I  have  made  a  discovery  that  would 
enrich  any  country  that  adopted  it."  "What  has  he  dis- 
covered ? "  "  Oh,  something  trifling  enough,  you  would 
never  guess  it ;  the  use  of  the  steam  of  boiling  water.  To 
listen  to  him,  you  would  imagine  that,  with  steam,  ships  could 
be  navigated,  carriages  be  moved ;  in  fact,  there  is  no  end  to 


PREJUDICE,   IGNORANCE,   AND  ARTIFICE. 


293 


the  miracles  he  insists  could  be  performed  with  its  aid,  —  oh, 
he  is  very  mad  !  "  And  so  he  was  left  to  die.  But  men  per- 
severed, and  thought,  toiled,  experimented,  lost  their  property, 
ruined  their  health,  and  died  neglected ;  yet  they  lived  not 
in  vain,  nor  la- 
bored and  spent 
their  strength 
for  naught. 
Even  their  dis- 
appointments 
inspired  emula- 
tion, and  their 

failures    taught          Iliillll         111         Mi    i     HU|i|illllii'MliillM'lil 
others   the  way 
to   a  glorious 
success. 

It  is  humili- 
ating to  record 
the  prejudice, 
ignorance,  and 
artifice  by  which 
many  of  the 
most  valuable 
inventions  were 
opposed,  and  by 
which  they  were 

so  often  and  so  long  thwarted.  Take  the  history  of  the 
early  railroads.  One  might  have  supposed  there  would 
have  been  a  general  desire  on  the  part  of  the  community 
to  receive  with  open  arms,  and  hail  with  gratitude,  an 
invention  which  would  enable  them,  at  about  half  price, 
to  travel  at  five  times  the  speed  their  utmost  efforts  had 
previously  been  able  to  attain.  Not  only  that,  but  to 


i  AM  NOT  MAD! 


294  OPPOSITION  THAT  DID  NOT  PAY. 

afford  similar  facilities  to  millions  of  tons  of  merchandise. 
And  yet,  in  tracing  the  lines  for  our  great  railways,  the  engi- 
neers were  often  looked  upon  as  magicians  and  unclean  spirits, 
whose  unearthly  object  was  to  frighten  the  land  from  its  pro- 
prietors. In  many  instances  where  it  was  proposed  to  give 
vigor  and  animation  to  a  town  by  tapping  it  with  a  railway, 
the  inhabitants  fancied  their  interests  would  expire  under 
the  operation.  Take,  for  instance,  the  opposition  to  Mr. 
Robert  Stephenson's  endeavors  to  locate  the  route  of  the 
London  and  Northwestern  Railway,  when  the  people  of  North- 
ampton, urged  and  excited  by  men  of  influence  and  education, 
opposed  the  scheme  with  such  barbarous  force  that  they  suc- 
ceeded in  distorting  the  line  from  that  healthy  and  handsome 
town  to  a  point  five  miles  distant.  But  for  that  opposition 
the  town  would  at  once  have  attained  to  a  position  of  com- 
mercial importance  of  inestimable  value.  They  considered 
it  utterly  incredible  that  a  railway  could  supersede  mail  and 
stage  coaches.  The  invention  was  declared  to  be  a  smoky 
substitute  for  canals.  Men  of  property  inveighed  against  it, 
and  their  tenants  were  equally  opposed.  On  one  occasion, 
one  of  the  engineers  employed  to  trace  out  a  line  which  was 
to  confer  inestimable  advantages  upon  the  locality,  was 
attacked  by  the  proprietors  of  the  soil,  and  a  conflict  ensued 
which  ended  in  serious  legal  results.  Still,  in  spite  of  all 
this  opposition,  these  men  were  determined  to  succeed. 

The  following  incident  in  connection  with  the  London 
and  Northwestern  Railway,  related  in  "  Stokers  and  Pokers," 
is  interesting.  The  Kilsby  tunnel  was  to  be  driven  one 
hundred  and  sixty  feet  below  the  surface  for  a  distance  of 
about  seven  thousand  yards.  The  work  was  actively  pro- 
gressing, when  suddenly  it  was  found  that  about  two  hundred 
yards  from  the  south  end  of  the  tunnel  there  existed  a  hidden 
quicksand,  which  extended  four  hundred  yards  into  the  pro- 


A  GREAT  ENGINEERING  FEAT.  295 

posed  tunnel.  Overwhelmed  at  the  discovery,  the  contractor 
for  the  construction  of  the  tunnel,  though  relieved  by  the 
company  from  his  engagement,  took  to  his  bed  and  died. 
Then  Robert  Stephenson  offered,  after  mature  reflection,  to 
undertake  the  responsibility  of  proceeding,  and  was  authorized 
to  do  so.  But  the  difficulties  threatened  that  the  effort  would 
be  hopeless,  so  much  so  that  the  directors  had  about  deter- 
mined to  abandon  it,  but  Robert  Stephenson  prayed  for  one 
fortnight  more ;  and  by  the  strength  of  twelve  hundred 
and  fifty  men,  two  hundred  horses,  and  thirteen  steam 
engines,  the  work  was  gradually  completed.  During  night 
and  day,  for  eight  months,  the  astonishing  quantity  of  eighteen 
hundred  gallons  per  minute  from  the  quicksand  alone  was 
raised  by  Mr.  Stephenson  and  conducted  away. 

George  Stephenson,  the  father  of  Robert,  worked  fifteen 
years  at  the  improvement  of  his  locomotive  before  he  achieved 
success.  Watt  was  engaged  thirty  years  upon  the  condensing 
engine  before  he  brought  it  to  perfection.  Samuel  Morse, 
from  his  first  experiment  with  the  electric  telegraph  in  1835, 
till  his  experimental  essay  in  1844,  struggled  hard  against 
obstacles  and  indifference,  with  scanty  means,  for  nine  years. 
The  Congressional  session  of  1842-43  was  a  memorable  one. 
On  the  last  night  he  waited,  almost  without  hope,  and  left 
the  House  discouraged  and  poor,  reduced  to  his  last  dollar. 
He  retired  to  bed,  after  arranging  for  his  departure  home  the 
aext  day.  On  the  morning  of  that  day,  March  4,  1843,  he  was 
startled  by  the  announcement  that,  in  the  midnight  hour  of 
the  expiring  session,  Congress  had  voted  to  place  at  his  dis- 
posal thirty  thousand  dollars  for  his  experimental  essay.  Many 
of  us  remember  that  first  line  from  Washington  to  Baltimore, 
when  the  practicability  and  utility  of  the  electric  telegraph 
was  demonstrated  to  the  world.  The  ocean  telegraph,  bring- 
ing two  continents  into  almost  instant  communication,  is  a 


296  PIONEERS   OF  DISCOVERY  AND   INVENTION. 

triumph  of  scientific  skill,  a  monument  of  enterprise  and  faith 
in  human  capability,  an  evidence  of  persevering  determination 
in  overcoming  the  most  discouraging  obstacles.  All  honor 
to  the  men  who,  through  discouragements  and  failures,  by 
their  indomitable  perseverance  bore  so  honorable  a  part  in 
that  great  enterprise.  We,  as  Americans,  are  proud  to  claim 
them  as  our  countrymen,  and  we  rejoice  in  their  success. 
They  are  but  a  few  of  the  noble  men  who  have  by  dis- 
covery and  invention  increased  the  desire  for  knowledge 
and  light,  and  bequeathed  an  ample  inheritance  to  the  world. 
The  names  of  many  are  forgotten,  the  successful  only  have 
been  remembered;  but  all,  known  or  unknown,  have  been 
as  the  sentinels  of  great  ideas  answering  each  other  across 
the  heads  of  many  generations. 

Curiosity  prompts  men  of  a  certain  class  to  gather  stores 
of  information,  furnishing  themselves  with  facts  that  others 
have  obtained.  It  is  well  to  know  all  we  can  that  is  use- 
ful, and  right  to  avail  ourselves  of  other  men's  labors  and 
investigations.  God  has  given  to  but  few  favored  ones  the 
intellect  and  ability  to  discover  truth;  therefore  it  is  a  lawful 
curiosity  that  induces  men  to  gain  general  information  from 
the  toils  of  others.  Many  a  minister  has  been  ruined  in  voice 
and  health  for  the  want  of  a  knowledge  of  acoustics ;  the  health 
of  thousands  of  persons  is  destroyed  through  a  want  of  the 
knowledge  of  physical  laws,  by  thin  shoes,  tight  lacing  and 
tight  boots ;  thousands  of  lives  are  lost  by  the  use  of  improper 
food  and  the  want  of  exercise.  Many  an  audience  has  been 
poisoned  by  foul  air,  for  the  want  of  a  knowledge  of  the  laws 
of  ventilation.  Read  the  "Appeal  to  the  Sextant :  "  "  There 
are  one  commodity  which  is  more  than  gold,  which  don't  cost 
nothing,  I  mean  pure  air.  But,  O  sextant,  you  shet  up  five 
hundred  men,  wimen,  and  children  up  in  a  tite  place.  O  sex- 
tant, don't  you  know  our  lungs  is  belluses  to  blow  the  fire 


MR.   PICKWICK  AND   THE   CABMAN. 


297 


fe- 


of  life,  and  keep  it  from  goin'  out  ?  And  how  can  belluses 
blow  without  wind?  And  ain't  wind  air?  Air  is  for  us  to 
breathe.  Wot  signifies  who  preaches,  if  I  can't  breathe? 
Wot's  Paul,  wot's  'Pollus  to  sinners  wot  are  ded, — ded  for 
want  of  breth  ?  O  sextant,  let  a  little  air  into  our  church : 
how  it  will  rouse  the  people  up,  and  sperrit  up  the  preacher, 
and  stop  garps  and  fidgets  as  effectooal  as  wind  on  the  dry 
bones  the  prophet  tells  of." 

Very  curious  people  are 
sometimes  im- 
posed on  ludi- 
crously.     All    K| 
remember  the 
amusing  scene 
between  Pick- 
wick and  the 
cabman. 

"How  old 
is  that  horse, 
my  friend?" 

"Forty- 
two." 

"  What  ! " 
as  he  noted 
the  fact  in  his 
book.  "  How  long  do  you  keep  him  out  at  a  time?  " 

"  Two  or  three  veeks." 

"Weeks?" 

"  We  seldom  takes  him  home  on  account  of  his  veakness." 

"Weakness?" 

"  He  always  falls  down  when  he  's  took  out  o'  the  cab ;  but 
when  he  's  in  it,  we  bears  him  up  werry  tight  and  takes  him 
in  werry  short,  so  as  he  can't  werry  well  fall  down;  and 


A   REMARKABLE   HORSE. 


298  AN  INQUISITIVE  TRAVELLING  COMPANION. 

we  've  got  a  pair  o'  precious  large  wheels  on,  so  ven  he  does 
move  they  run  after  him,  and  he  must  go  on, — he  can't  help 
it."  Every  word  of  which  Mr.  Pickwick  entered  in  his  book 
as  veritable  information,  and  the  result  was  an  offer  from  the 
cabman  to  fight  him  for  the  fare. 

Some  experiences  in  travelling  are  very  annoying,  and  yet 
very  amusing.  You  are  comfortably  seated  in  a  railway  car, 
absorbed  in  your  book.  "Is  this  seat  taken?"  "No,  sir." 
"  Fine  day."  "  Yes,  sir."  "  Going  far  ?  "  "  Yes,  sir."  "  New 
York,  I  presume  ?  "  "  Yes,  sir."  "  Going  farther  ?  "  "  Yes, 
sir."  "Ah,  South?"  "Yes,  sir."  "Business?"  "Yes, 
sir."  "Dry  goods?"  "No,  sir."  "Ah!  engaged  in  insur- 
ance?" "No,  sir."  "Speculation?"  "No,  sir."  "Come 
from  the  East?"  "Yes,  sir."  "Boston?"  "No,  sir." 
"What  is  your  age,  may  I  ask?"  "No,  sir."  "Ah!  yes, 
married  ?  "  "  Yes,  sir."  "  Children  ?  "  "  No,  sir."  "  Hum  ! 
adopt  any?"  "No,  sir."  " I  should  think  you  would.  Be- 
long to  the  church?"  "Yes,  sir."  "Orthodox?"  "I  sup- 
pose so."  "  Who's  your  minister  ?  "  "  Dr.  Smith."  "  Smart 
preacher?"  "Yes,  sir."  "Practical?"  "Somewhat  so." 
"  Abolitionist  ?  "  "  Yes,  sir."  "  What  might  your  name  be  ?  " 
Bless  the  man,  it  might  be  Belshazzar,  but  it  is  n't. 

The  study  of  the  character  of  others  is  very  interesting, 
but  in  our  judgment  of  men  we  are  apt  to  forget  circum- 
stances ;  each  one  has  an  experience  peculiarly  his  own,  and 
not  to  be  judged  according  to  that  of  another.  We  have  no 
right  to  judge  unless  we  know  all  the  circumstances  of  the 
case.  What  right  have  we  to  judge  men  simply  from  appear- 
ances ?  How  often  we  are  deceived  in  this  !  Have  you  never 
reversed  your  judgment  ?  Have  you  never  said,  "  I  am  sorry 
I  said  so  and  so  about  a  man ;  for,  when  I  knew  all  the  circum- 
stances, the  case  appeared  so  very  different  ?  " 

Let  me  relate  an  incident  to  you.     You  know  I  deal  pretty 


A  PRINTER'S   SELF-DENIAL.  -J<)<) 

much  in  illustration.  I  once  heard  Dr.  Parker  preaeh  a  si-r- 
iiion  in  which  he  encouraged  me  wonderfully.  In  speaking 
of  those  who  endeavor  to  preach  by  illustration,  anecdote,  and 
parable,  he  said  that  some  of  them  are  doing  work  equal  to 
that  of  great  logicians.  So  I  felt  very  much  comforted,  and 
I  mean  to  continue  with  my  anecdotes,  stories,  and  illustra- 
tions. The  incident  to  which  I  refer  occurred  in  the  city  of 
New  York.  About  fifty  men  were  employed  in  a  printing 
establishment.  One  of  them  had  requested  permission  to 
sleep  on  the  papers,  under  a  bench,  to  save  the  expense  of 
lodging,  —  he  spent  no  money  except  for  the  commonest  neces- 
saries  of  life.  His  fellow-workmen  set  him  down  as  a  mean 
man,  a  cowardly  sneak,  because,  while  they  insulted  him,  he 
did  not  resent  it.  He  bore  all  their  persecution  patiently,  and 
they  left  no  stone  unturned  to  worry,  to  harass,  and  to  annoy 
him  in  his  business.  This  went  on  for  months.  It  was  the 
custom  of  the  men  in  this  office  to  have  an  annual  picnic,  or 
excursion  party.  One  pay-day,  in  the  month  of  June,  the 
jnen  were  standing  round  the  imposing-stone,  when  some  one 
proposed  that  the  excursion  should  take  place  the  following 
month.  "Very  good."  "Then  we  will  make  up  our  com- 
mittees,—  committee  on  invitation  and  finance."  "What 
will  you  give?"  was  asked,  "and  you?  and  you?"  This 
man  stood,  "sent  to  Coventry,"  isolated,  alone.  Some  one 
asked  him  how  much  he  would  subscribe  for  the  picnic.  He 
quietly  refused  to  give  anything  for  any  pleasure .  excursion. 
The  man  who  had  asked  him  said  something  so  grossly  insult- 
ing that  his  patience  was  exhausted,  and  he  let  him  have  it 
right  straight  from  the  shoulder,  and  sent  him  to  the  floor. 
Then  he  said :  "  Now,  gentlemen,  I  am  no  fighter ;  I  did  not 
seek  this  quarrel,  but  matters  have  come  to  a  crisis.  You  have 
treated  me  shamefully  for  months,  and  I  have  borne  it  pa- 
tiently. Now  I  suppose  the  place  will  be  too  hot  to  hold  me, 


300  UNEXPECTED  KINDNESS. 

and  I  must  find  some  other  employment.  I  have  never  told 
you  why  I  have  been  obliged  to  appear  to  you  mean  and  ava- 
ricious, but  I  will  do  so  now.  I  have  a  sister,  whom  I  love, 
and  I  have  been  supporting  her  at  a  boarding-school ;  this  I 
found  comparatively  easy,  but  my  sister  has  become  blind. 
My  poor  little,  blind,  orphan  sister  is  without  a  friend  on  earth, 
except  myself,  to  care  for  her.  I  have  ascertained  that  in 
Paris  there  resides  a  physician  who  has  been  very  successful 
in  curing  the  form  of  blindness  with  which  my  sister  is 
afflicted;  and,  gentlemen,  I  have  been  starving  myself  for 
months  to  raise  the  money  necessary  to  take  her  to  Paris ; 
and  by  the  help  of  God  I  will  do  it  yet,  in  spite  of  your  op- 
position." 

The  man  whom  he  had  knocked  down  then  said :  "  Look 
here,  will  you  shake  hands  with  me  ?  Have  you  any  objec- 
tions to  shaking  hands  with  me  ?  From  my  heart  and  soul  I 
beg  your  pardon.  Now,  men,  we  will  have  no  excursion  this 
year,  but  I  ask  every  man  in  this  shop  to  put  down  ten  dollars 
on  that  imposing-stone." 

"  Gentlemen,  I  do  not  ask  your  money." 
"  Down  with  the  money,  every  man  of  you." 
In  a  fortnight,  every  man  in  that  shop  waited  upon  him 
on  board  the  ship  with  his  sister.     Two   years   afterwards, 
they  gladly  welcomed  him  as  he  brought  her  back  with  sight 
restored,  like  one  coming  from  the  pool  of  Siloam. 

Some  years  ago,  in  Marseilles,  there  lived  an  old  man,  known 
to  every  urchin  in  the  streets  as  a  niggard  in  his  dealings,  and 
with  habits  of  the  utmost  penury.  From  his  boyhood,  he 
had  lived  in  the  city,  and  though  the  people  treated  him  with 
scorn  and  disgust,  hooted  at  him  in  the  streets,  insulted 
him  in  every  way,  and  though  he  was  without  one  friend  to 
give  him  a  kind  word,  he  could  not  be  driven  out  of  the  place. 
At  last  he  died,  and  left  an  ample  fortune.  On  opening  his 


A   SCORNED   AND   HOOTED   MISER. 


301 


will,  they  found  these  words :  "  Having  observed  from  my 
childhood  that  the  poor  of  Marseilles  are  ill  supplied  with 
water,  which  can  only  be  procured  at  a  great  price,  I  have 


cheerfully    labored    the 
whole  of  my  life  to  give 
them  this  great  blessing, 
and   I    direct    that    the 
whole  of  my  property  be 
expended  in  building  an 
aqueduct  for  their  use." 
In  one  of  our  sleep- 
ing-cars a  child  was  crying,  and  annoying  the  passengers,  in 
spite  of  the  attempts  of  the  father  to  quiet  it.     One  surly 
man  —  they  said  he  was  an  old  bachelor  and  hated  children 
—  pushed  aside  the  curtain,  and  said :  "  Why  is  not  that  child 
19 


THE    MISER   OF    MARSEILLES. 


302        AX  OLD  BACHELOR'S  TENDER  SPOT. 

kept  quiet  ?  Where  is  the  mother  of  that  child  ?  Why  does 
she  not  try  to  stop  its  crying?  Why  does  she  not  attend 
to  it?" 

The  father  said:  "The  mother  of  this  child  is  in  the 
baggage-car,  in  her  coffin.  I  have  been  travelling  with  the 
baby  for  two  nights  and  days,  and  the  little  creature  is  rest- 
less for  its  mother.  I  am  very  sorry  if  it  has  disturbed  any 
person's  rest." 

"  Bless  my  soul,  my  friend ;  wait  a  minute  till  I  dress  my- 
self," said  the  grumbler.  And  then  he  made  the  father  lie 
down  to  sleep,  took  the  baby  himself,  and  cared  for  it  till  the 
morning.  Any  old  bachelor  who  hates  children  will  know 
that  the  man  must  have  taken  up  his  cross  to  care  for  that 
child  through  the  night. 

We  have  curiosity  about  things  that  do  not  exist.  All  of 
us,  without  exception,  seem  to  possess  this  desire.  I  remem- 
ber when  I  visited  Alloway  Kirk,  I,  with  others,  looked  in  at 
the  same  window  through  which  Tarn  O'Shanter  saw  the  dance 
of  the  witches.  We  are  told  that  a  skull  was  once  exhibited 
as  Shakespeare's  skull.  Some  one  made  the  remark  that  the 
skull  was  very  small.  The  reply  was,  "  That  was  his  skull 
when  he  was  a  little  boy."  Many  persons  who  visit  the  Cats- 
kill  Mountains  are  exceedingly  anxious  to  visit  the  spot  where 
Rip  Van  Winkle  slept  his  long  sleep. 

Then  we  have  a  curiosity  about  things  we  can  never  know ; 
for  there  are  some  things  very  difficult  to  find  out.  A  dealer 
in  hides,  wishing  to  attract  customers  by  a  striking  sign, 
bored  a  hole  through  the  door-post  of  his  store,  and  stuck  in 
it  a  calf's  tail,  with  the  bushy  end  hanging  down.  One  day 
a  man  dressed  in  black,  with  spectacles,  stood  a  long  time 
intently  studying  the  tail. 

"  Good  morning,  sir."     "  Good  morning." 

"  Want  to  buv  hides  ?  "     "  No." 


A  HARD   PROBLEM. 


303 


I  am  a  philosopher.     I 


"  Want  to  sell  any  ?  "     "  No." 

"  Are  you  a  farmer  ?  "     "  No." 

"A  minister?"     "No." 

"A  doctor?"     "No." 

"Well,  what  are  you,  then?" 
have   been   studying   for   an  hour  to   solve  the  problem  of 
how   that  calf  got 
through  that  auger- 
hole." 

Can  you  tell 
how  many  trunks 
a  fashionable  lady 
needs  for  a  week 
at  Saratoga?  Why 
some  people  write 
their  names  in  con- 
spicuous places? 
Why  boys  always 
laugh  when  a  man 
falls  down?  Why 
women  cry  at  wed- 
dings? "Punch" 
has  a  picture  of  a 
wedding  breakfast 
where  all  are  cry- 
ing ;  and  the  father, 
rising  to  propose 
the  health  of  the 
newly -married 

couple,  says  :  "  This  is  the  happiest  day  of  my  life  !  "  Can 
you  tell  what  will  be  the  next  style  of  bonnets  ?  Why  peo- 
ple never  return  borrowed  umbrellas?  Why  a  street  car 
or  an  omnibus  will  always  hold  one  more  ?  Why  there  is 


THE    PHILOSOPHER    AND   THE    CALF'S   TAIL. 


304 


UNANSWERABLE  QUESTIONS. 


never  any  one  to  blame  for  a  railroad  accident  ?  Why  a  snob 
is  always  on  intimate  terms  with  great  people  ?  Did  you  ever 
see  a  dandy  who  did  not  think  everybody  admired  him  ?  Can 
you  tell  how  old  your  middle-aged  lady  friend  is?  Did  you 
ever  buy  goods  at  an  alarming 
sacrifice  without  being  swindled? 
There  are  numberless  little  matters 


THE   BIG   BOY   AND    LITTLE    DICKEY   TILTON. 

that  are  as  profoundly  in  the  dark  as  the  author  of  "  Junius  " 
or  the  executioner  of  Charles  the  First. 

Queer  reasons  are  sometimes  given  for  the  knowledge 
that  others  possess.  "Who  made  you?"  inquired  a  teacher, 
of  a  big  lubberly  boy  of  fourteen  who  had  lately  joined  the 
class.  "I  don't  know."  "Don't  know?  You  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  yourself;  why,  there's  little  Dickey  Tilton, — 


A  CONFOUNDED  FOOL  AND  HIS   "DITTO."  395 

he  can  tell,  I  dare  say,  and  he  is  but  three  years  old. 
Come  here,  Dickey;  who  made  you?"  "Dod,"  lisped  the 
child.  "There,"  said  the  teacher  triumphantly,  "I  knew 
he  would  remember."  "Well,  he  oughter,"  said  the  over- 
grown boy,  "  't  ain't  but  a  little  while  since  he  was  made." 
There  are  odd  ways  of  obtaining  information.  A  man 
came  into  the  house  with  a  bill  in  his  hand.  "  Wife,  what 
on  earth  is  all  this  ditto  you  have  bought  at  the  store?" 
"Ditto?  I  never  ordered  any  ditto."  "Why,  here  it  is  on 
the  bill :  one  pound  of  tea,  one  pound  of  ditto,  ten  pounds 
of  sugar,  five  pounds  of  ditto."  "I  never  bought  an  ounce 
of  ditto  in  my  life."  He  went  to  the  store-keeper.  "  I  say, 
my  old  woman  says  she  never  bought  an  ounce  of  ditto,  and 
you  have  charged  it  by  the  pound."  The  matter  was  ex- 
plained. He  went  home.  "Well,  husband,  have  you  found 
out  what  all  that  ditto  means?"  "Yes,  I  have.1'  "Well, 
what  is  it?"  "Why,  that  I  'm  a  confounded  fool,  and  you're 
ditto." 

If  our  happiness  consists  in  gratifying  the  love  of  learning 
new  truths  here,  what  will  be  the  happiness  in  heaven,  where 
we  shall  be  forever  satisfying  the  desire  after  more  and  yet 
more  knowledge !  Here,  in  our  finite  state,  our  knowledge 
must  be  very  imperfect,  our  capacities  are  so  limited.  Astron- 
omers tell  us  the  sun  is  about  ninety-five  millions  of  miles 
from  us,  and  Neptune  thirty  times  as  far ;  that  light  comes  to 
us  from  the  sun  in  eight  minutes,  and  from  Neptune  in  four 
hours.  How  do  they  know  this?  I  cannot  tell,  but  it  is 
evident  they  do  know  the  movements  of  the  planets,  for  they 
calculate  eclipses  with  absolute  accuracy.  We  receive  their 
statements  with  credence ;  and  talk  of  the  millions  of  miles, 
but  we  cannot  comprehend  such  distances ;  our  ideas  are 
extremely  vague  and  confused.  Well,  we  are  told  the  sun  is 
ninety-five  millions  of  miles  from  us ;  all  we  can  say  is,  it  is 


306  INCOMPREHENSIBLE  FIGURES. 

v 

a  vast  distance,  and  that  is  about  all  we  know  of  it.  Our 
idea  of  distance  is  obtained  from  the  time  it  takes  to  travel 
over  it.  Put  a  baby,  as  soon  as  he  is  born,  into  an  express 
train  going  at  the  rate  of  one  hundred  miles  an  hour,  and 
he  would  grow  to  be  a  boy,  the  boy  grow  to  be  a  man,  the 
man  grow  old  and  die,  without  reaching  the  sun;  for  it  is 
one  hundred  and  eight  years'  distance  from  us,  if  we  trav- 
elled towards  it  day  and  night,  without  stopping,  at  the  rate 
of  one  hundred  miles  an  hour.  If  Adam  and  Eve  had  started 
at  the  rate  of  fifty  miles  an  hour  for  Neptune,  they  would  not 
have  reached  it  yet.  But  when  we  come  to  the  fixed  stars, 
the  nearest  is  so  far  that  light,  travelling  one  hundred  and 
ninety  thousand  miles  a  second,  is  three  years  in  coining  to 
us;  and  there  are  stars  whose  light  would  take  two  thousand 
years  to  reach  us.  Here  we  are  lost,  and  we  gain  but  a  very 
faint  conception  of  immensity,  or  rather  a  confused  notion 
of  these  incomprehensible  distances. 

But,  "  in  the  soul  of  man,  powers  lie  hidden  like  living  seeds 
in  the  earth,-which  have  not  produced  all  their  fruit.  Eternal 
sunshine,  the  dew  of  ages,  the  everlasting  seasons,  are  requi- 
site for  the  development  of  all  the  capabilities  that  are  within 
us,  and  which  can  never  die."  There  will  be  in  the  future 
state  an  eternally  progressive  perception  of  Omnipotence, 
receiving  the  "meaning  of  the  divine  mind  an  atom  at 
a  time.  Infinite  perfections  can  never  be  exhausted;  God 
can  never  be  comprehended  by  us.  He  would  cease  to 
be  God,  could  we  understand  him.  The  mysteries  of  the 
Godhead  will  be  eternally  revealing  themselves  with  new 
developments  of  his  power,  his  wisdom,  his  love,  new  revela- 
tions of  his  works,  his  dispensations.  We  shall  be  everlast- 
ingly approaching  the  unapproachable,  continually  accumu- 
lating knowledge,  and  gaining  more  power  to  grasp  it.  We 
shall  find  that  this  advancement  only  enlarges  the  conception 


THE  WONDERFUL  WORKS   OF  GOD.  8Q7 

of  the  immeasurable  distance  between  the  creature  and  the 
Creator.  "We  shall  learn  and  love  infinitely  as  the  divine 
attributes  rise  before  us  unsearchable  and  unlimited,  eter- 
nally discovering  more  and  more  of  their  might,  beauty,  and 
harmony,  and  views  mighty  and  ever-enlarging  of  all  that  is 
august  in  the  nature  of  God,  and  wonderful  in  his  works." 
"Eye  hath  not  seen,  ear  hath  not  heard,  it  hath  not  entered 
into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive."  Oh,  I  believe  that,  "at 
every  new  development  of  the  amazing  power  and  love  of 
God,  the  hearts  of  the  redeemed  will  beat  with  a  higher  pulse 
of  devotion,  their  harps  be  swept  with  a  bolder  hand,  their 
tongues  send  forth  a  mightier  chorus ;  the  voice  which  is  to  be 
as  the  voice  of  many  waters,  and  as  the  voice  of  a  great  thun- 
der, shall  grow  louder  and  louder,  each  manifestation  of  his 
power  and  love  adding  a  new  wave  to  the  many  waters,  and 
a  new  peal  to  the  great  thunder,  as  they  go  on  from  strength 
to  strength,  always  increasing  in  knowledge,  admitted'  to 
richer  and  richer  discoveries  ;  '  eternity  a  glorious  morning, 
the  sun  climbing  higher  and  higher,  one  blessed,  eternal  spring- 
time.' "  Thought  itself  cannot  measure  such  a  portion  when 
a  flood  of  splendid  light  will  be  poured  over  creation  and 
redemption  alike,  as  "  in  his  light  we  shall  see  light." 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


THE  RUGGED  ROAD  TO  SUCCESS  —  HEROES  AND  HEROISM  IN 
HUMBLE   LIFE  —  THRILLING  INCIDENTS   AND   STORIES. 

Patience  and  Perseverance  Necessary  to  Success  —  The  Man  Who 
Thought  of  the  Steamboat  —  " Poor  Fellow;  He's  Crazy  Yet"  — His 
Last  Request  —  A  Nobleman's  Foolish  Boast  —  Eating  the  Boiler  of  a 
Steamboat  —  Among  the  Cornwall  Miners  —  A  Thrilling  Incident  — 
Touching  off  a  Blast  at  the  Bottom  of  a  Deep  Shaft  —  A  Moment  of  Ter- 
rible Suspense  —  "Up  with  Ye!  I  '11  Be  in  Heaven  in  a  Minute "  —  An 
Act  of  Noble  Self-sacrifice  —  A  Hero  in  Humble  Life  —  The  Explosion  — 
Descending  the  Shaft  —  A  Champagne  Factory  in  New  Jersey —  Stepping 
Into  the  Slush  — Burnt  Boots— A  Hard  Fight— Fable  of  the  Cat  and 
the  Wily  Mouse  —  Getting  the  Best  of  the  Cat  —  A  Humorous  Story  — 
The  Old  Couple  Who  "Swore  off"  — "Well,  I  Will  if  you  Will"  — A 
Meal  of  Toasted  Cheese— Building  the  Temple. 


OR  more  than  half  a  century, 
men  from   all  grades  of  so- 
ciety,   from   all    professions, 
and  of  multiform  experience, 
have    thought,   spoken,   and 
written   on    every   phase   of 
temperance  reform,  but  still 
it  has   been,  and  is,   a  pro- 
gressive work.      Some   people   have 
an  idea  that  reforms  consist  of  one 
great  spasmodic  effort ;  but,  to  suc- 
ceed, we  must   be  willing   to  work 

slowly,  by  patient  and  often  unheralded  endeavor.  Read 
the  history  of  the  reforms  of  the  world.  What  patient  per- 
sistence !  What  endeavor  to  build  better !  Who  can  measure 
or  weigh  the  throes  endured  as  nation  after  nation  has  come 
308 


7 


EMINENT  DEFENDERS  OF  WRONG.  3Q9 

to  the  birth-hour  of  its  best  reforms  ?  And  from  what  small 
beginnings  these  great  enterprises  have  started  !  To-day  we 
smile  at  the  weakness  of  those  early  efforts,  as  in  the  strength 
of  our  manhood  we  smile  at  the  feeble  efforts  of  childhood. 
I  have  seen  the  first  constitution  and  by-laws  of  the  first 
association  in  the  United  States  for  the  promotion  of  temper- 
ance, formed  in  1804.  One  of  the  provisions  of  the  consti- 
tution was  this :  — 

"Any  member  of  this  association  who  shall  be  convicted  of  gross  intoxi- 
cation shall  be  fined  twenty-five  cents,  unless  such  act  of  intoxication  shall 
take  place  on  the  4th  of  July,  or  on  any  regularly  appointed  military  muster." 

We  smile  at  that  to-day,  but  that  was  in  advance  of  public 
sentiment,  and  the  men  who  adopted  it  were  iconoclasts, 
who  went  out  in  advance  of  their  fellows  to  beat  down  the 
dagons  their  fathers  had  worshipped,  and  they  were  perse- 
cuted. There  never  yet  was  an  enterprise  that  touched  men's 
interests,  appetites,  or  passions,  that  did  not  subject  its  pro- 
moters to  persecution. 

We  remember  the  terrible  opposition  to  the  anti-slavery 
movement,  when  men  of  the  highest  intellect  and  bright- 
est genius  were  called  into  requisition  to  defend  a  wrong. 
Daniel  Webster  said  once,  at  a  large  meeting  in  Faneuil  Hall, 
in  reference  to  the  agitation  against  the  fugitive  slave  law : 
*'  This  agitation  must  be  stopped."  Who  will  stop  it  ? 
Stopped !  An  agitation  of  right  against  wrong  stopped ! 
Christ  against  Belial  stopped!  The  agitation  of  human 
rights  against  men's  interests  stopped !  Who  will  stop  it  ? 
Thank  God,  no  power  on  earth  can  avail  when  He  moves, 
and  no  voice  can  be  heard  when  He  speaks ;  and  in  his  own 
good  time  every  evil  thing  shall  be  abolished,  even  though  it 
vanish  in  smoke  and  fire  and  blood,  as  slavery  was  extin- 
guished in  our  country. 

Men  have  ever  spoken  of  an  enterprise  that  was  in  advance 


310  DYING   OF  THE   ONE-IDEA   DISEASE. 

of  public  sentiment  as  a  Utopian  scheme.  When  a  boy,  I 
attended  school  at  Folkestone,  in  Kent,  and  on  my  way  I 
passed  every  day  the  house  where  Dr.  Harvey  lived.  And 
who  was  he  ?  The  man  who  discovered  the  circulation  of 
the  blood,  and  he  was  bitterly  opposed  by  members  of  his  own 
profession.  Men  always  persecute  those  who  are  in  advance 
of  public  sentiment;  they  say,  "  You  cannot  do  it." 

We  are  told  that  a  man  in  Philadelphia  invented  an 
engine  by  which  he  proposed  to  propel  vessels  through  water 
against  wind  and  tide,  by  the  aid  of  steam.  He  was  laughed 
at.  "  Propel  vessels  against  wind  and  tide  ?  Perfectly 
ridiculous.'*  He  exhibited  his  diagrams,  plans,  and  models. 
The  whole  thing  was  looked  upon  as  a  palpable  absurdity, 
and  the  man  as  a  monomaniac.  He  was  treated  as  you  would 
now  treat  the  man  who  spends  fifteen  hours  out  of  the 
twenty-four  in  trying  to  discover  perpetual  motion.  He  died 
in  Kentucky,  and  during  his  last  illness  one  of  his  friends, 
stooping  over  him,  said :  "  Is  there  any  request  you  have  to 
make."  "  Yes,"  he  said,  his  eyes  brightening,  "  I  have  a  last 
request  to  make.  When  I  die,  bury  me  by  the  banks  of  the 
Ohio,  that  in  after  years  my  spirit  may  be  soothed  by  the 
songs  of  the  boatmen  and  the  music  of  the  steam-engine,  as 
the  vessels  pass  and  repass,  conveying  the  product  of  one 
clime  to  another."  His  friend  turned  away,  exclaiming : 
"  Poor  fellow !  He  is  crazy  yet.  What  a  pity !  He  dies 
of  the  one-idea  disease."  One-idea  disease !  His  mind  was 
like  a  mountain-top  towering  above  its  fellows,  catching  the 
first  beams  of  the  morning  light,  and  basking  in  the  full  sun- 
shine, while  those  in  the  valley  were  shrouded  in  gloom ;  and 
if  his  spirit  may  be  permitted  to  wander  by  the  banks  of 
the  Ohio,  he  will  know  that  there  the  music  of  the  steam- 
engine  never  ceases,  night  or  day ;  it  is  one  glorious  psean 
of  triumph  for  the  mighty  power  of  science. 


A   TOUGH  MEAL. 


311 


When  men  first  agitated  the  railroad  scheme,  they  were 
laughed  at.  "Railroads!  How,  in  the  name,  of  common 
sense,  can  you  build  a  railroad  ?  We  are  willing  to  believe 
anything  in  reason,  but  how  can  you  ascend  a  l;ill  with  a  rail- 
road? Why,  some  of  these  fanatical  fellows  talk  of  going  at 
the  rate  of  twenty  miles  an  hour.  At  such  a  break-neck 
pace  they  would  endanger  the  lives  of  all  the  passengers." 
One  gentleman  in  Boston  said  he  would  oppose  the  granting 
of  a  railway  charter  be- 
cause the  parties  wanted  \\  ilLSM^J  li 


LIFE  IN    A   RAILWAY   CAB. 


to  go  the  whole  dis- 
tance, sixteen  miles,  in 
an  hour.  One  gentle- 
man in  England,  now  an  earl,  said :  "  They  talk  of  bridging 
the  Atlantic  by  steam  ;  I  will  eat  the  boiler  of  the  first 
steamboat  that  goes  across  the  Atlantic."  Steamers  are 
daily  crossing,  but  I  have  never  heard  that  the  gentleman 
has  eaten  a  boiler.  You  will  see  in  a  railway  train  the 
lawyer  looking  over  his  brief,  the  minister  studying  his  next 
Sunday's  sermon,  a  couple  in  a  corner  talking  soft  nonsense ; 
and  nobody  thinks  of  breaking  necks  now.  Perhaps,  too,  you 
will  see  a  couple  of  the  most  inveterate  grumblers  the  world 
ever  produced,  men  who  battled  to  the  very  last  against  grant- 
ing the  charter.  "  We  are  a  wonderful  people,  are  n't  we  ?  "  says 
one.  "Yes,  wre  are  an  astonishingly  wonderful  people;  this 


312  AN  AGE   OF  DEVELOPMENT. 

is  an  age  of  progress,  sir.  Why,  I  remember  when  we  were 
two  weeks  in  performing  a  journey  which  is  now  accom- 
plished in  twenty-four  hours."  Yes,  it  is  "we"  now.  Why? 
Because  the  work  is  done  ;  because  the  plan  is  carried  out, 
and  proved  to  be  popular.  Plenty  of  men  oppose  a  thing 
till  it  becomes  popular ;  then  they  will  ride  on  a  railway  that 
others  have  built  in  spite  of  them,  drawn  by  a  locomotive 
other  men  have  made  in  spite  -of  opposition  and  ridicule; 
and  then  have  the  impudence  to  say,  "  We  have  done  it." 

We  are  living  in  an  age  of  progress.  In  science,  me- 
chanics, locomotion,  there  has  been  vast  progress.  We  live 
in  an  age  in  which  great  and  glorious  truths  are  being 
developed;  I  say  developed,  for  there  are  no  new  truths. 
Truth  is  eternal ;  it  was  as  true  thousands  of  years  ago  that 
messages  could  be  transmitted  by  the  telegraphic  wires  as 
it  is  to-day.  It  was  as  true  centuries  ago  that  vessels  could 
be  propelled  by  steam  against  wind  and  tide  as  it  is  to-day. 
It  has  always  been  true  that  God  made  of  one  blood  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth.  Men  have  forgotten  that  truth, 
but  they  are  now  coming  back  to  it.  They  are  beginning 
to  look  upon  their  fellow-men  as  brethren. 

Have  faith  in  human  progress.  There  may  be  dark  clouds 
about  us,  but  stand  on  yonder  rock,  take  your  place  upon 
the  cliff,  and,  though  you  cannot  see,  have  faith  and  listen, 
and  the  breeze  will  bring  to  your  ear  the  boom  of  the  bell 
that  is  to  ring  the  death-knell  of  oppression  and  wrong-doing 
over  all  God's  universe.  Have  faith  in  human  progress ; 
such  progress  as  shall  lead  to  the  realization  of  what  is  com- 
prehended under  the  terms  liberty,  fraternity,  equality,  when 
these  terms  shall  be  understood  in  their  highest  signifi- 
cance. These  words  are  not  to  be  made  mere  by-words, 
but  words  which,  when  spoken,  will  make  men's  hearts  burn 
with  a  desire  to  do  something  to  redeem  fallen  humanity. 


"CRUCIFY   THEM,   CRUCIFY   THEM!"  313 

This  is  the  age  of  progress,  true  and  certain  progress.  Time 
was  when  men  were  burnt  at  the  stake,  and  were  beheaded 
on  the  scaffold  for  the  simple  reading  of  God's  word,  and  the 
world  was  quiet.  When  the  Madiai  were  imprisoned  in  Tus- 
cany for  Bible  reading,  was  the  world  quiet?  No.  From 
pulpit,  press,  and  platform,  from  the  White  House  at  Wash- 
ington, from  the  Parliament  of  Great  Britain,  came  forth 
one  cry  of  indignant  remonstrance,  and  the  prison-doors  were 
thrown  open,  and  the  prisoners  set  free.  How  was  this 
accomplished  ?  Was  it  by  bloodshed  ?  by  force  of  arms  ?  by 
war?  No.  I  am  a  peace  man,  and  I  rejoice  that  the  bloody 
banner  is  no  longer  applauded  as  it  has  been.  It  was  accom- 
plished by  the  almost  omnipotent  power  of  human  sympathy. 
Then  let  us  have  faith  in  our  enterprise;  for  side  by  side  with 
the  great  enterprises  of  the  day  we  claim  to  place  the  enter- 
prise of  temperance.  The  men  who  laid  its  foundation  stood 
alone  when  others  stood  by  and  laughed  them  to  scorn.  They 
had  faith,  and  as  they  looked  down  the  future  they  saw  the 
beam  inclining  to  the  side  of  justice. 

In  the  olden  time  men  were  imprisoned  in  dungeons  so 
vile  that  when  we  visit  them  to-day  we  are  filled  with  horror. 
Men  were  mutilated  and  murdered  for  advocating  civil  and 
religious  freedom.  One  generation  persecuted  them  to  the 
death,  crying,  "  Crucify  them,  crucify  them  !  "  But,  thanks 
be  to  God,  another  generation  has  gathered  the  scattered 
ashes  of  the  martyred  heroes  of  the  past,  to  deposit  them  in 
the  "  golden  urn  of  the  nation's  history."  Ah,  yes,  the  men 
who  fight  the  early  battles  are  they  who  bear  the  burden  and 
heat  of  the  day,  sustained  by  the  consciousness  of  right,  and 
knowing  that  he  who  seeth  in  secret  knows  the  desire,  steady 
purpose,  and  firm  self-denial  of  those  who  serve  him,  and  that 
he  will  reward  them  openly  though  they  may  die  and  see  no 
sign  of  victory.  So  shall  it  be  in  the  future,  in  the  final  tri- 
umph of  every  good  enterprise. 


314  A   LITTLE   GIRL'S   FAMOUS   ACT. 

Little  Mary  Newton,  a  girl  of  four  years  of  age,  touched 
an  electric  instrument  with  her  baby  finger,  and  the  sunken 
rocks  that  had  impeded  navigation  for  centuries  were  burst 
in  pieces  with  a  roar  and  a  crash,  and  a  mighty  upheaval  of 
the  water.  Did  Mary  Newton  do  it?  Oh,  no.  There  had 
been  men  under  the  surface  placing  dynamite.  For  months 
they  had  worked  in  the  dark  and  in  the  wet.  Those  unseen 
men,  who  were  toiling  and  laboring  night  and  day,  while 
ships  were  sailing  over  them,  and  men  were  passing  on  either 
side  unconscious  of  all  this  hard  toil,  —  they  were  the  men 
that  did  the  work,  and  Mary  Newton  was  only  the  medium 
that  God  saw  fit  to  touch  the  instrument  that  sent  the  elec- 
tric current  on  its  mission.  Now  some  of  you  are  placing 
the  dynamite.  You  are  preparing  that  which  is  to  explode 
by  and  by,  when  God  sends  some  man  that  shall  apply  the 
match  or  turn  on  the  electric  current. 

There  are  no  heroes  who  are  selfish  and  mean.  Meanness 
and  selfishness  are  not  elements  of  heroism.  True  heroism 
is  to  do  for  others,  to  work,  to  sacrifice  for  others ;  that  is 
true  heroism.  Ask  the  world's  great  men  "  In  what  does 
your  greatness  consist?"  "I  make  marble  breathe."  "Yours?" 
" I  make  canvas  speak."  "Yours?"  " I  weigh  the  sun,  and 
tell  the  courses  of  the  stars."  "  Yours ? "  "I  discover  a 
world."  "Yours?"  "I  conquer  a  world."  Hark!  Amid 
the  hills  of  Galilee  is  heard  the  voice  of  Him  who  spake  as 
never  man  spake.  Reverently  we  ask,  "  Prophet  of  Nazareth, 
what  is  thy  greatness?  "  Hear  the  reply:  "I  came  to  seek 
and  to  save  men."  "  By  what  means  ?  "  "  By  giving  myself 
a  sacrifice  for  them."  Competitors  for  heroism,  fix  your 
eyes  there,  and  take  your  rank  according  to  the  most  magni- 
ficent standard  of  heroism  the  universe  has  ever  gazed  upon. 
We  are  ready  to  acknowledge  such  heroism. 

I  remember  a  little  incident   that  happened  many  years 


INCIDENT   IN  A   CORNISH   MINE. 


315 


ago.  When  I  was  in  Cornwall,  in  1854,  I  visited  the  mine 
where  the  incident  occurred.  Carlyle  refers  to  the  story  in 
one  of  the  chapters  of  his  "Life  of  Sterling."  Two  men 
were  sinking  a  shaft.  It  Avas  danger- 
ous business,  for  it  was  necessary  to 
blast  the  rock.  It  was  their  custom 
to  cut  the  fuse  with  a  sharp  knife. 
One  man  then  entered  the  bucket  and 
made  a  signal  to  be  hauled  up.  When 
the  bucket  again 
descended,  the 
other  man  enter- 
ed it,  and  with 
one  hand  on  the 
signal  rope  and 
the  other  hold- 
ing the  fire,  he 
touched  the  fuse, 
made  the  signal, 
and  was  rapidly 
drawn  up  before 
the  explosion 
took  place. 

One  day  they 
left  the  knife 
above,  and  rather 
than  ascend  to 
procure  it,  they 
cut  the  fuse  with 
a  sharp  stone.  It  took  fire.  "  The  fuse  is  on  fire  !  "  Both 
men  leaped  into  the  bucket,  and  made  the  signal ;  but  the 
windlass  would  haul  up  but  one  man  at  a  time;  only  one 
could  escape.  One  of  the  men  instantly  leaped  out,  and  said 


ONLY   ONE    COULD   BE    SAVED. 


316  AN  ACT   OF  HEROISM. 

to  the  other,  "  Up  wi'  ye ;  I  '11  be  in  heaven  in  a  minute." 
With  lightning  speed  the  bucket  was  drawn  up,  and  the  one 
man  was  saved.  The  explosion  took  place.  Men  descended, 
expecting  to  find  the  mangled  body  of  the  other  miner ;  but 
the  blast  had  loosened  a  mass  of  rock,  and  it  lay  diagonally 
across  him  ;  and,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  bruises  arid  a 
little  scorching,  he  was  unhurt.  When  asked  why  he  urged 
his  comrade  to  escape,  he  gave  a  reason  that  sceptics  would 
laugh  at.  If  there  is  any  being  on  the  face  of  the  earth  I 
pity,  it  is  a  sceptic.  I  would  not  be  Avhat  is  called  "a  sceptic," 
to-day,  for  all  this  world's  wealth.  They  may  call  it  super- 
stition and  fanaticism,  or  whatever  they  choose.  But  what 
did  this  hero  say  when  asked,  "  Why  did  you  insist  on  this 
other  man's  ascending?"  In  his  quaint  dialect,  he  replied, 
"  Because  I  knowed  my  soul  was  safe  ;  for  I  've  gie  it  in  the 
hands  of  Him  of  whom  it  is  said,  that  'faithfulness  is  the 
girdle  of  his  reins,'  and  I  knowed  that  what  I  gied  Him  He  'd 
never  gie  up.  But  t  'other  chap  was  an  awful  wicked  lad, 
and  I  wanted  to  gie  him  another  chance."  All  the  infidelity 
in  the  world  cannot  produce  such  a  signal  act  of  heroism  as 
that. 

We  admire  and  applaud  the  principle  of  self-sacrifice; 
and  yet,  when  asked  to  give  up  a  paltry  gratification,  we 
refuse.  I  ask  you  to  bring  before  us  all  the  good  that  has 
been  produced  in  this  country  from  the  use  of  intoxicating 
liquors.  What  man  has  been  made  better  by  it,  morally, 
physically,  intellectually,  or  spiritually  ?  Religiously  spiri- 
tual, I  mean.  No  man.  "Oh,"  you  say,  "but  many  men 
have  been  benefited  by  it  physically."  Well,  I  leave  you  in 
the  hands  of  Dr.  Richardson  and  Sir  William  Gull  and  Dr. 
Norman  Kerr  and  a  great  many  others  who  have  written 
learnedly  on  the  subject.  Make  the  best  you  can  of  it, 
liquor  is  but  a  luxury.  It  is,  to  be  sure,  a  gratification.  I 


NEW  JERSEY  CHAMPAGNE.  317 

grant  you  there  is  a  gratification  in  it.  And  what  is  it? 
The  gratification  of  intoxication.  "Ah,  but  I  don't  get 
intoxicated."  Then  what  do  you  drink  it  for?  Let  me 
take  all  the  intoxicating  principle  out  of  that  glass  of  cham- 
pagne, and  then  do  you  want  it?  Why,  you  know  very  well 
that  dead  beer  is  detestable  stuff  to  drink.  Take  the  fuddle 
out  of  it,  and  you  do.  not  want  it.  Let  me  take  it 'out 
of  your  sherry,  madeira,  or  burgundy,  and  who  will  drink 
them  ? 

And  then,  what  are  you  drinking?     Oh,  you  are  drinking 


FRENCH   CHAMPAGNE   MADE  IN    NEW  JERSEY. 

fine  champagne  and  sherry,  are  you?  Who  gets  the  "sham 
pain?"  Do  you  think  you  can  obtain  champagne  in  New 
York  or  London  ?  I  was  going  to  say  I  would  give  five 
hundred  dollars  to  any  man  who  will  bring  me  a  bottle  of 
champagne,  bought  to-day  in  this  country,  that  will  stand  a 
chemical  test.  There  is  more  champagne  bought  and  sold  in 
New  York  city  than  is  produced  in  the  whole  of  the  champagne 
district.  I  have  heard  of  a  champagne  manufactory  in  New 
Jersey,  where  they  send  out  hundreds  and  thousands  of 
baskets  of  champagne  marked  with  the  French  mark  !  And 
they  say  that  a  man  crossing  the  street  where  one  of  these 
champagne  manufactories  was  in  full  blast,  stepped  into  the 
debris  or  slush  coming  from  the  place,  and  when  he  got  home 
20 


318  A  TYRANNICAL  APPETITE. 

he  found  his  boots  were  burnt!  You  must  remember  that 
was  the  stuff  met  with  outside ;  I  do  not  mean  to  say  they 
would  put  such  stuff  as  that  into  it.  That  was  the  refuse  ! 

But  we  say  not  only,  what  are  men  drinking?  but,  why 
are  they  drinking?  "  Ah,"  says  some  one,  "but  I  have  not 
the  kind  of  appetite  you  are  speaking  about;  a  man  must 
have'  a  terrible  appetite  to  sacrifice  everything  for  drink; 
I  have  no  appetite  of  that  kind."  I  do  not  know  that 
you  have,  but  I  will  give  you  a  very  easy  method  of  test- 
ing it.  You  can  either  say,  "  O  thou  invisible  spirit  of 
wine,  if  we  had  no  other  name  by  which  to  call  thee,  we 
would  call  thee  devil;  but,  devil  as  thou  art,  I  am  your 
master,"  —  you  can  either  say  that,  or  it  is  your  master. 
You  are  either  free  from  it  or  you  are  not.  There  may  be 
different  degrees  of  bondage.  I  will  give  you  an  easy  method 
of  testing  the  matter.  When  you  want  drink  again,  remem- 
ber that  the  want  is  produced  by  the  use  of  the  article  you 
desire.  Now  see  how  strong  that  want  is. 

The  next  time  you  want  drink,  just  let  it  alone,  go  about 
your  business,  and  you  will  soon  begin  to  feel  nervous,  irri- 
table, and  cross.  Things  do  not  go  right  —  "I  believe  I  must 
go  and  have  a  — "  Ah!  just  let  it  alone.  Sit  down  to  dinner, 
you  have  no  appetite  —  "I  really  believe  I  need  a  tonic  —  " 
Now  just  let  it  alone.  You  can  do  it  safely,  there  is  no  doubt 
of  that,  just  let  it  alone.  "  But  how  long  must  I  let  it 
alone?"  Let  it  alone  till  you  have  ceased  to  want  it. 
My  word  for  it,  some  of  you  will  have  to  fight  for  a  month, 
for  two  months,  for  three  or  four  months,  before  you  are 
completely  rid  of  all  desire  for  it;  and  you  will  find  it 
has  a  firmer  grip  than  you  imagine.  A  young  man  said  to 
me  after  he  had  given  it  a  trial,  "Mr.  Gough,  I'll  never 
touch  it  again ;  I  had  no  conception  that  drink  had  such  a 
hold  of  me ;  I  thought  I  could  leave  it  off  when  I  'd  a  mind 


DRINK'S  TERRIBLE  GRIP.  319 

to,  but  I  had  to  fight  against  it  as  if  I  were  fighting  for  my 
life ;  now  I  will  have  no  more  of  it." 

Some  people  say,  "  We  have  tried  abstinence,  but  it  don't 
suit  us."  Why  don't  it  suit  them?  I'll  tell  you.  Because 
they  don't  try  it  long  enough.  A  gentleman  in  a  certain 
town  in  England  where  I  spoke,  after  the  second  meeting, 
went  home,  and  the  porter  was  put  on  the  supper  table. 
The  servant  was  leaving  the  room,  and  he  said,  "Jane, 
Jane !  come  here,  take  away  that  porter.  I  'm  not  going  to 
drink  any  more  porter,  and  you  must  put  no  more  of  it  on 
the  table."  Jane  took  away  the  porter.  The  next  day,  he 
came  in  to  lunch  about  one  o'clock,  and  there  was  no  porter 
on  the  table.  As  the  servant  was  going  out,  he  called  her 
back  and  said,  "Jane,  ah-m  —  bring  in  the  porter;  I've 
stood  it  so  long,  I  can't  stand  it  any  longer."  I  suppose 
that  man  would  say  he  had  no  appetite,  and  yet  he  could  not 
stand  it  without  his  porter  for  twenty-four  hours, 

Some  men,  while  they  boast  they  have  no  appetite  for 
intoxicating  liquor,  are  positively  ready  to  sacrifice  that 
which  they  believe  to  be  right  and  true,  for  the  sake  of  it. 
No  appetite?  Why,  I  have  seen  men  go  into  a  dram-shop 
who  looked  as  if  they  were  ashamed  to  be  seen  entering  such 
a  place.  I  once  saw  a  young  man  in  Boston  passing  by  a 
dram-shop  that  was  kept  in  a  cellar.  He  looked  down  to  see 
who  was  there,  and  walked  on.  He  came  back  again  pres- 
ently, and  peeped  down  again.  Then,  slyly  looking  around 
him,  he  mustered  courage  to  go  in,  and,  as  he  was  diving 
down,  the  liquor-seller  met  him  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs 
with  the  rebuff,  "If  you  are  ashamed  to  come  in  like  a  man, 
I  am  not  ashamed  to  put  you  out  like  a  dog."  That  young 
man  might  have  said  he  had  no  appetite,  yet  he  was  sneaking 
into  the  dram-shop  to  get  his  drink  under  the  influence  of  an 
appetite  he  denied. 


320  PROMISES   MADE   IN  LIQUOR. 

I  remember  a  little  story  of  a  mouse  that  fell  into  a  beer- 
vat,  poor  thing!  and  a  cat  passing  by  saw  the  struggling 
little  creature.  The  mouse  said  to  the  cat,  "  Help  me  out  of 
my  difficulty."  "If  I  do  I  shall  eat  you,"  said  the  cat. 
44  Very  well,"  replied  the  mouse,  "  I  would  rather  be  eaten 
by  a  decent  cat  than  drowned  in  such  a  horrible  mess  of 
stuff  as  this."  It  was  a  sensible  cat,  and  it  said,  "  I  certainly 
shall  eat  you,  and  you  must  promise  me  on  your  word  of 
honor  that  I  may  do  so."  "  Very  well,  I  will  give  you  the 
promise  ;  I  promise."  So  the  cat  fished  the  mouse  out ;  and, 
trusting  to  the  promise,  she  dropped  it  an  instant  to  clean 
her  own  mouth  of  the  abomination  of  the  vat,  thinking  she 
had  better  do  so  before  she  took  a  decent  meal  off  the  mouse. 
The  mouse  instantly  darted  away  and  crept  into  a  hole  in 
the  corner,  where  the  cat  could  not  get  him.  "  But  did  n't 
you  promise  me  I  might  eat  you?"  "Yes,  I  did,  but  don't 
you  know  that  when  I  made  that  promise  I  was  in  liquor  V 
And  how  many  promises  made  in  liquor  have  been  broken ! 

An  old  lady  and  gentlemen  —  not  very  old  either  —  were 
once  riding  home  from  a  temperance  meeting  where  the 
speakers  had  been  laying  it  down  pretty  plainly.  They  went 
along  very  quietly  for  some  time.  By  and  by  the  gentleman 
said  to  his  wife  with  a  sigh,  "  Well  ?"  To  which  she  replied, 
44  Well?"  The  old  gentleman  then,  with  a  deeper  sigh,  said, 
44 Well?"  to  which  the  lady  replied,  "Well,  I  will  if  you 
will."  Said  the  gentleman,  "Agreed."  " Agreed,"  said  the 
lady,  "  we  are  teetotalers."  "  We  are  teetotalers."  "  When 
shall  we  begin?"  "At  once."  " Agreed."  "Go  along!" 
They  went  home.  "  Well,  wife,  we  must  have  something 
for  supper;  what  have  you  in  the  house,  any  cold  meat?" 
44 1  believe  there  is  no  cold  meat."  "What  shall  we  have?" 
44 Suppose  we  have  some  toasted  cheese?"  "Very  well, 
some  toasted  cheese."  The  bell  was  rung,  and  the  servant 


A  MEAL   OF  TOASTED  CHEESE. 


321 


came  in.  u  Bring  us  some  toasted  cheese,  and  m-m-m- 
water."  Supper  came  in,  and  they  began  on  the  cheese. 
Said  the  wife,  "  Well  ?  "  The  old  gentleman,  making  an  effort 
to  swallow  the  cheese,  replied,  "Well?"  "Well,"  said  the 
lady,  "it's  rather  dry;  what  shall  we  do?"  "Suppose  we 
begin  to-morrow."  The  bell  was  rung  and  the  servant  was 
ordered  to  bring  in  the  porter.  But  they  never  began  011 
the  morrow.  Their  conscience  was  touched,  they  thought 

they  could  get  on  easily  without 
the  drink,  but  found  they  could 
not.  However,  the  old  man  now 


"WELL,  ITS  RATHER  DRY." 

goes  by  the  nickname  of  "  Old  Well,"  and  he  never  will  get 
rid  of  it  as  long  as  he  lives,  for  he  was  foolish  enough  to  tell 
the  whole  story.  I  think  a  man  should  ascertain  whether  he 
ihas  an  appetite  or  not,  before  he  boasts  that  he  has  none. 

As  I  said  in  the  opening  of  this  chapter,  temperance 
reform  was  a  serious  matter  in  those  early  days  when  the 
beginnings  were  small.  The  very  men  that  adopted  the  con- 
stitution I  alluded  to  were  persecuted,  hooted  at,  and  pelted 
'through  the  streets.  The  doors  of  their  houses  were  black- 


322          THE  TEMPLE  OF  TEMPERANCE. 

ened,  their  cattle  mutilated,  their  fruit-trees  girdled.  The 
fire  of  persecution  scorched  some  men  so  that  they  left  the 
work.  Others  worked  on,  and  God  blessed  them.  Some  are 
living  to-day.  They  worked  hard.  They  lifted  the  first 
turf,  prepared  the  bed  in  which  to  lay  the  corner-stone. 
They  laid  it  amid  persecution  and  storm,  they  worked  under 
the  surface.  There  were  busy  hands  laying  the  solid  founda- 
tion far  down  beneath.  By  and  by,  the  superstructure  rose 
above  the  surface,  and  then  commenced  another  storm  of 
persecution,  but  still  they  persevered.  Now  we  see  piilar 
after  pillar,  tower  after  tower,  column  after  column  with  the 
capitals  emblazoned  with,  "  Love,  truth,  sympathy,  and  good 
will  to  men."  Old  men  gaze  upon  it  as  it  grows  up  before 
them.  They  will  not  live  to  see  it  completed,  but  they  see  in 
faith  the  crowning  cope-stone  set  upon  it.  Sad-eyed  women 
weep  as  it  grows  in  beauty ;  children  strew  the  pathway  of 
the  workmen  with  flowers,  and  bind  wreaths  upon  their 
brows.  We  do  not  see  its  beauty  yet,  we  do  not  yet  see  the 
magnificence  of  this  superstructure,  because  it  is  in  course  of 
erection.  Scaffolding,  ropes,  ladders,  workmen  ascending 
and  descending,  hide  the  beauty  of  the  building  ;  but  by  and 
by  the  scaffolding  will  fall  with  a  crash,  and  the  building  will 
be  seen  in  its  wondrous  beauty  by  an  astonished  world. 
The  last  poor  drunkard  shall  go  into  it  and  find  a  refuge 
there;  loud  shouts  of  rejoicing  shall  be  heard;  and  there  shall 
be  joy  in  heaven  when  the  triumph  of  a  great  enterprise 
shall  usher  in  the  day  of  the  triumph  of  the  cross  of  Christ. 
I  believe  it.  Will  you  help  us  ? 


CHAPTER   XV. 


GOSPEL  TEMPERANCE  —  ILLUSTRATIVE    INCIDENTS    AND 
STORIES  —  LEAVES   FROM  MY   OWN   EXPERIENCE. 

Why  I  Do  Not  Preach  the  Gospel  — The  Biggest  Rascal  I  Ever  Knew  — The 
Grace  of  God  —  My  Belief  —  Found  Dead  —  The  Frenchman  and  the  City 
Missionary  —  An  Honest  Opinion— An  Emphatic  Statement — "Bosh" 
—  Drinking  First  and  Finding  an  Excuse  Afterwards — A  Clergyman's 
Story  — "I  Take  it  as  a  Medicine"  —A  Dandy's  Worthless  Advice  — A 
Negro's  Practical  Help  —  Power  of  Man's  Will  —  My  Horror  of  Drunken- 
ness—Terrible Dreams— "It  Tasted  Good"— My  Idea  of  Sin— Want 
of  Cordiality  in  Our  Churches  —  Chilly  Reception  to  Strangers  —  My  Own 
Experience  —  Painful  Truths  —  A  Novel  Way  of  Getting  Acquainted  — 
Looking  Back  Thirty  Years  —  A  Good  Story —  Betty  and  the  Bear  —  The 
Husband's  Sudden  Retreat  to  the  Rafters  —  A  Plucky  Wife  —  "Take  Him 
on  the  Other  Side,  Betty!"  —  "  We"  Have  Done  Gloriously. 


REMEMBER,    some     years 
ago,  after  I  had  delivered  an 
address  in  which,  subsequent 
to  an  exploring  expedition  in 
company  with  a  detective,  I 
had  depicted  the  "sins  and 
sorrows  of   a  great   city,"   a 
gentleman  said  to  me:  "You 
have  revealed  to  us  a  state  of  things 
which  is  fearful,  an  amount  of  moral 
evil     that     is     perfectly    appalling. 
What  do  you  consider  the  remedy 

for  all  this  moral  evil  ?  "  I  said  to  him,  as  I  would  say  to 
you  or  to  any  one,  "  The  only  remedy  for  moral  evil  is 
the  power  of  the  gospel  of  the  grace  of  God."  He  replied: 

323 


824  AN  UNMITIGATED  KASCAL. 

"  Why  don't  you  preach  the  gospel,  then  ?  "  I  said :  "  The 
reason  why  I  do  not  preach  the  gospel,  according  to  your 
idea  of  preaching  it,  is  that  I  have  such  an  idea  of  the  awful 
responsibility  that  rests  upon  any  man  who  dares  to  stand 
between  the  living  and  the  dead  to  deliver  God's  message  to 
dying  men,  that  unless  I  felt  in  the  core  of  my  heart,  4  Woe 
is  me,  if  I  preach  not  the  gospel,'  with  my  sense  of  the 
requirements  for  the  office,  and  with  my  views  of  it,  I  should 
not  dare  to  occupy  the  position."  Then  he  said:  "  You  are 
preaching  something  else  instead."  "Oh,  no!"  "Is  not 
drunkenness  a  moral  evil  ?  "  "  Yes."  "  Is  not  the  power  of 
the  gospel  of  the  grace  of  God  the  only  remedy  for  moral 
evil?"  "Yes."  Now,  by  the  total  abstinence  movement, 
we  do  not  pretend  to  do  more  than  the  one  thing.  Drunk- 
enness is  a  moral  evil  produced  by  a  physical  agency. 
Remove  the  agency,  arid  the  moral  evil  ceases,  so  far  as 
drunkenness  is  concerned. 

In  advocating  total  abstinence,  we  do  not  present  it  as 
the  remedy  for  all  the  evil  and  all  the  sin  in  the  world.  We 
do  not  pretend  to  say  that  if  a  man  signs  the  total  abstin- 
ence pledge  he  becomes  endowed  with  all  the  cardinal  virtues 
under  the  sun.  There  are  some  awfully  mean  men  who  do 
not  drink.  One  of  the  most  unmitigated  specimens  of  ras- 
cality I  ever  knew  had  one  redeeming  feature,  and  that  was 
he  did  not  get  drank ;  and  yet  he  was  guilty  of  almost  every 
form  of  wickedness  prohibited  in  the  decalogue. 

"But  you  are  putting  temperance  in  the  place  of  the 
gospel."  I  do  not  think  so.  The  gospel  is  "  the  power  of 
God  unto  salvation  to  every  man  that  believeth."  The  total 
abstinence  pledge  and  principle  will  do  a  certain  work,  and 
no  more.  If  a  drunkard  adopts  it,  he  cannot  be  a  drunk- 
ard. If  your  boy  never  uses  intoxicating  liquor,  he  cannot 
be  intemperate.  Begging  your  pardon,  he  may  be  a  thief,  a 


INFIDELITY  AND  TOTAL  ABSTINENCE.  325 

liar,  a  Sabbath-breaker  ;  he  may  be  the  boldest,  brazen-faced 
blasphemer  that  ever  lived,  but  he  cannot  be  a  drunkard. 
There  is  no  virtue  in  the  total  abstinence  pledge  or  principle, 
to  make  an  intemperate  man  anything  else  but  a  sober  man  ; 
it  will  do  that.  You  say  the  grace  of  God  alone  will  effect 
it.  Here  is  an  infidel,  and  there  is  no  virtue  in  total  absti- 
nence to  make  him  a  Christian ;  but  I  would  rather  have  a 
sober  infidel  than  a  drunken  professor  of  religion,  because 
I  love  the  church  better  than  temperance  associations,  and  1 
believe  these  associations  promote  the  very  highest  interests 
of  the  church.  Suppose  I  go  into  the  ditch  and  bring  out  a 
drunkard.  I  strip  him  of  the  grave-clothes  of  inebriation, 
I  lead  him  along  and  whisper  encouraging  words  in  his  ear, 
bringing  him  as  near  as  I  can  to  the  very  threshold  of  your 
church.  Have  n't  I  done  a  good  work  by  mere  human 
agency,  as  far  as  it  goes  ?  Would  n't  you  rather  have  him 
there  sober  than  drunk?  Drunkenness  is  a  physical  evil, 
and  it  may  be  removed  by  human  agency.  The  man's  sin 
may  not  be  removed,  but  he  can  no  longer  be  a  drunkard. 

Suppose  you  have  a  friend  on  a  death-bed  (I  now  speak 
to  professing  Christians),  in  a  raging  fever.  He  bites  his 
lips,  clenches  his  fist,  and  mutters  unintelligible  jargon.  You 
know  it  is  the  grace  of  God  only  that  can  renew  him  in  the 
spirit  of  his  mind.  Bring  in  your  minister,  let  him  point  to 
the  sacrifice  once  made  for  sin.  The  man  knows  nothing 
about  it ;  he  is  mad ;  he  does  not  know  the  wife  that  bends 
tearfully  over  him.  What  will  you  do?  You  send  for  the 
physician ;  by  cool  appliances  he  reduces  the  fever,  and  by 
mere  human  agency  brings  the  patient  to  a  sane  state  of 
mind.  Now  whisper  in  his  ear:  "Faithful  5s  the  saying  and 
worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the 
world  to  save  sinners."  "Him  that  cometh  to  me  I  will  in  no 
wise  cast  out."  He  hears,  he  understands,  light  dawns  upon 


326  HUMAN  AGENCY. 

his  mind,  and  you  may  be  the  instrument  of  his  salvation, 
when  without  that  agency  you  could  not. 

Reading  my  Bible,  T  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that, 
when  human  agency  can  do  no  more,  then  God  does  the 
rest.  At  the  tomb  of  Lazarus,  Christ  said :  "  Take  away  the 
stone."  He  might  have  removed  it,  but  he  saw  fit  to  use 
human  instrumentality.  They  rolled  away  the  stone,  but 
they  could  do  no  more ;  they  stood  by  while  Jesus  spoke ; 
incipient  putrefaction  quivered  and  trembled  into  life,  and 
Lazarus  came  forth.  It  was  the  power  of  God  that  raised 
the  dead,  but  human  agency  removed  the  stone.  And  I 
believe  the  total  abstinence  enterprise  has  been  instrumental 
in  removing  many  a  rock  from  the  door  of  the  dark  tomb 
where  the  drunkard  has  lain,  and  the  corpse  of  a  drunkard 
has  been  seen  in  God's  house  a  living  man,  —  yes,  a  Christian 
man, — not  saved  by  temperance,  but  brought  under  the  influ- 
ence of  those  instrumentalities  by  which  he  has  heard  and 
believed,  by  the  agency  we  advocate  as  a  lawful  remedy  for 
the  evil  of  drunkenness.  I  can  ask  God,  therefore,  to  sanctify 
the  enterprise  to  a  higher  end  than  merely  lifting  a  man 
from  the  ditch.  I  thank  God  that  some  who  were  in  the 
ditch  have  been  redeemed. 

People  talk  sometimes  of  "temperance  and  religion."  I 
know  no  such  distinction  in  my  own  case ;  my  temperance  is 
a  part  of  my  religion.  I  cannot  be  a  Christian  and  a  mode- 
rate drinker,  any  more  than  I  can  be  a  thief  and  a  Christian. 
I  am  not  judging  you.  Don't  understand  me  as  saying  that 
a  man  cannot  be  a  Christian  unless  he  is  a  teetotaler.  I  am 
only  judging  myself,  and  with  my  view  of  the  horrible  evil 
of  drunkenness,  with  my  view  of  the  way  in  which  I  came 
to  it,  with  my  view  of  the  influence  every  man  exerts,  with 
my  view  of  the  drinking  customs  of  society,  if  I  countenance 
those  customs,  I  am  violating  my  allegiance  to  heaven.  We 


WORKING  TOGETHER  FOR  GOOD.  327 

are  not  presuming  to  put  temperance  in  the  place  of  the 
gospel,  but  we  believe  that  temperance  associations  spring 
from  the  gospel,  like  every  other  benevolent  enterprise. 

Some  have  said  that  this  tends  to  infidelity.  I  defy  you 
to  bring  me  one  man  who  was  ever  made  an  infidel  by 
becoming  a  teetotaler.  He  may  have  been  an  infidel  before 
he  signed  the  pledge.  You  say  we  must  not  receive  such  a 
one.  Now,  though  I  am  what  is  called  an  orthodox  Congre- 
gationalist,  shall  I  ask  a  man,  "Do  you  belong  to  my  church?" 
before  I  will  put  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  him  to  help  a 
man  out  of  the  ditch?  No,  we  will  work  together  to  do 
good,  if  we  are  as  wide  asunder  as  the  poles  in  politics  and 
in  religious  opinions.  We  have  no  right  to  push  men  off 
the  platform  because  they  do  not  believe  as  we  believe.  I 
tell  you  one  thing :  if  all  professing  Christians  and  ministers 
of  the  gospel  had  taken  the  position  they  ought  to  have 
taken  upon  the  temperance  question,  I  believe  there  would 
be  fewer  infidels  among  the  teetotalers.  I  know  some  of 
our  reformed  drunkards  have  said  hard  things,  but  remember 
who  they  were.  The  iron  entered  into  their  souls;  they 
were  miserable,  poor,  wretched,  debased,  and  degraded. 
Some  kind  friend  whispered  words  of  hope  in  their  ears;  they 
wiped  the  dull  film  from  their  eyes  and  saw  there  was  hope, 
and  then  they  were  brought  into  the  house  of  God.  I  am  not 
making  a  supposition  only,  but  detailing  facts  which  have 
more  than  once  occurred.  The  man  knows  he  is  better  than 
he  was ;  better  to  himself,  to  his  family,  and  to  society.  He 
sits  in  God's  house  for  the  first  time  for  years,  he  is  affected 
by  the  singing  and  by  the  devotional  exercises,  and  then  the 
minister  denounces  as  fanatical  and  unscriptural  the  move- 
ment that  has  brought  him  from  the  ditch.  What  is  his 
opinion  of  that  religion  and  that  preaching?  "  Here  I  was," 
he  says,  "in  misery  and  wretchedness,  a  cursing  and  bias- 


328  INCONSISTENT  WORKERS. 

pheming  wretch ;  I  want  to  be  better  ;  I  go  to  the  house  of 
God,  where  I  have  not  been  since  I  was  a  child,  and  I  hear 
the  minister  say  it  is  all  infidelity,  anti-Bible,  anti-Christian, 
it  is  putting  temperance  in  the  place  of  religion,  and  he 
denounces  the  movement  that  has  benefited  me." 

I  feel  as  if  there  was  fault  on  both  sides.  Let  us  throw 
back,  however,  the  cause  of  infidelity  where  it  belongs.  What 
if  temperance  advocates  have  said  hard  things  ?  will  you  at- 
tack the  Christian  religion  because  of  its  professors?  I  read 
in  a  Carlisle  paper  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  So-and-so,  after  divine 
service,  went  to  a  public  house  and  became  so  intoxicated 
that  the  hostler  wished  to  drive  him  home ;  but  he  refused, 
and  started  full  speed  by  himself.  He  was  afterward  found 
in  the  road,  dead,  with  his  face  horribly  bruised  and  mutilated. 
Will  you  say,  "Is  that  the  religion  you  boast  of?"  No,  the 
fault  of  a  minister  of  the  gospel  no  more  mars  the  glorious 
structure  bf  Christianity  than  the  fall  of  a  workman  from  the 
scaffolding  will  mar  the  beauty  of  the  building.  Do  not, 
then,  denounce  the  movement  for  the  faults  of  its  advocates. 
I  believe  the  indifference  to  religion  among  many  abstainers 
is  engendered  and  supported  by  the  inconsistencies  of  profess- 
ing Christians  more  than  by  all  the  teetotalism  that  ever  has 
been  promulgated.  A  young  man  once  came  to  me  and  said, 
"  Mr.  Go  ugh,  Mr.  Mason  came  to  see  me,  to  talk  about  reli- 
gion, and  what  do  you  suppose  I  told  him  ?  I  said,  4  Do  you 
own  the  American  Hotel  ? '  4  Yes,  I  do.'  '  Now,'  said  I,  4  Mr. 
Mason,  there's  drunkenness  in  that  hotel  from  Saturday  night 
till  Sunday  morning,  drinking  and  gambling  and  scenes  that 
are  enough  to  make  a  man  shudder.  Now  you  give  up  your 
hotel,  and  then  come  and  talk  to  me  about  religion,  and  I 
will  hear  you.'  "  Now  that  was  perfectly  natural. 

Riding  from  Edinburgh  to  Dunfermline  in  company  with 
a  Frenchman,  —  not  a  religious  man,  nor  a  total  abstainer, — 


MUCH  RELIGION,   BUT  LITTLE   CHRISTIANITY.          329 


I  heard  him  conversing  with  a  city  missionary.  He  was  evi- 
dently a  sceptic.  In  the  course  of  the  conversation  the  city 
missionary  said,  "  You  must  acknowledge  that  Scotland  is  a 
religious  country."  "  Yes,  sair,"  said  the  Frenchman,  "  I  sup- 
pose you  will  call  Scotland  very  releegious ;  I  find,  sair,  zat 
zere  is  a  great  deal  of  releegion,  but  very  leetle  Christianity. 
I  will  explain  what  I  mean.  You  have  in  Scotland  society 


WHAT  FOR  DO  HE   SAY  ZAT  OF  MY 
COUNTRY  ? " 


for  good  tings,  Sabbat- 
school,  ragged-school ; 
very  good.  You  have 
society  for  observance 
of  ze  Lord's  day,  to  make  ze  people  keep  ze  Sunday.  Now, 
sair,  I  went  to  a  meeting  of  ze  society  for  ze  better  obsairv- 
ance  of  ze  Sabbat,  and  a  big,  large  gentleman  zere  make  one 
grand  speech.  'Gentlemen,'  he  said,  'look  at  France  [zat  is 
my  country]  ;  France  is  accursed  of  God,  He  has  trodden 
her  in  ze  wine-press  of  his  fury  for  years  because  she  has 
trodden  under  foot  ze  Sabbat  day.'  What  for  do  he  say  zat  of 
my  country  ?  I  know  very  well  zat  ze  people  of  Paris  seek 


330  "ONE  BIG,   GREAT  HYPOCRITE." 

zere  amusement  on  Sunday  at  Versailles,  in  ze  teatre,  in  ze 
ball-room,  in  ze  cafe*  chantant,  ze  Bois  de  Boulogne,  and  in  all 
kinds  of  amusement  zey  seek  zere  recreation  on  Sunday. 
Now,  sair,  I  agree  zat,  but  what  business  have  zat  man  to  say 
God  has  cursed  France  because  ze  people  go  for  amusement 
on  ze  Sabbat  day,  when  zat  very  man  keeps  twelve  men  in  his 
distillery  to  work  all  day  Sunday  ?  You  may  call  zat  man, 
sair,  very  releegious,  but  I  call  him  one  big,  great  hypocrite. 
To  go  into  ze  fields  is  to  go  for  pleasure,  to  hear  ze  birds  sing 
is  one  delight,  but  to  take  ze  beautiful  grain  God  has  given 
us,  and  to  kill  it,  and  out  of  ze  rottenness  of  ze  putrefaction 
of  ze  death  obtain  an  agency  zat  does  no  good,  but  burns  up 
men's  bodies  and  sends  zere  souls  to  hell,  according  to  his 
own  releegion,  is  not  zat  worse  zan  pleasure  on  Sunday,  eh  ? 
I  drinks  my  wine,  but  wiskey,  ah,  wiskey  is  ze  most  abomi- 
nation ting  zat  ever  was  made.  Oh,  zat  man  is  very  bad 
hypocrite." 

A  minister  of  the  gospel,  in  England,  once  said  to  me, 
"Mr.  Gough,  I  think  this  is  an  unscriptural  movement  of 
yours."  "Why  so,  sir?"  "Because  I  do  not  find  any  direct 
command  in  the  Bible  to  form  associations  for  the  promotion 
of  any  particular  virtue  —  and  temperance  is  a  virtue  —  or 
the  suppression  of  any  particular  vice."  "  Well,  sir,"  I  said, 
"Did  you  not  address  a  meeting  that  was  called  by  the  Early- 
closing  Association  ?  "  "  Yes."  "  Arid  did  you  not  advocate 
the  forming  of  such  associations  on  moral  grounds  ?"  "  Yes." 
"  Then,  according  to  your  doctrine,  you  advocated  an  unscrip- 
tural measure.  If  you  take  that  ground  against  the  temper- 
ance enterprise,  you  must  take  it  against  ragged-schools  and 
apprentices'  libraries,  and  it  would  sweep  away  nine  tenths 
of  the  benevolent  enterprises  that  are  now  the  glory  of  Great 
Britain."  Dr.  Candlish  says  it  is  a  species  of  infidelity 
creeping  into  the  church  that  demands  a  "thus  saith  the 


THE  GREAT  STUMBLING-BLOCK.  331 

Lord  "  before  a  man  will  go  out  of  the  way  to  help  a  brother. 
The  Rev.  W.  Reid  said,  "If  by  lifting  a  straw  I  injure  my 
brother,  I  am  as  much  bound  to  desist  as  if  I  read  in  the 
decalogue,  ;  Thou  shalt  not  lift  a  straw.' ' 

While  our  principle  as  a  direct  agency  accomplishes  just 
this  one  thing,  and  no  other,  as  an  indirect  agency  for  good 
we  hold  it  has  claims  on  the  sympathy  and  co-operation 
of  all  Christian  men,  and  of  all  Christian  ministers.  The 
gospel  is  "  The  power  of  God  unto  salvation,  to  every  one 
that  believeth."  How  shall  the}r  believe  unless  they  hear  ? 
What  is  the  great  hindrance  to  their  hearing?  Ask  your  city 
missionaries,  ask  the  ministers  of  the  gospel,  inquire  of  all 
who  are  seeking  to  save  men,  "  What  is  the  great  hindrance 
to  men's  hearing  the  gospel  ?  "  The  reply  will  be,  "  Drunk- 
enness keeps  more  men  from  hearing  the  gospel  than  any 
other  one  agency."  Now,  if  my  principle  is  a  lawful  princi- 
ple (and  the  time  has  gone  by  for  us  to  defend  the  principle 
of  total  abstinence  as  lawful),  and  by  it  I  can  remove  the 
hindrance  to  men's  hearing  the  gospel,  then  I  demand  the 
sympathy  of  those  who  love  the  gospel.  It  has  done  that, 
and  it  will  do  it.  I  could  give  you  fact  after  fact,  case  after 
case. 

I  often  hear  the  excuse  for  drinking,  "  I  cannot  do  without 
it;  it  is  necessary  for  me  as  a  medicine."  Now,  with  all  due 
respect  to  the  physician,  I  believe  that  taking  alcohol  as  a 
medicine  is,  as  a  general  thing,  what  we  call  —  and  it  is  very 
emphatic  —  "  bosh."  A  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England 
told  me  that  his  wife  would  not  become  a  teetotaler  because 
she  wanted  her  glass  of  ale  at  lunch  and  her  glass  of  ale  at 
dinner,  and  would  have  it.  It  seemed  to  be  one  of  those  cases 
where  an  excuse  is  needed.  The  physician  said  she  might 
take  it.  She  brought  her  little  boy  on  a  visit  to  London. 
On  looking  out  of  the  window  one  day,  he  saw  a  woman  come 


332  SAVED   BY  HER  BOY. 

out  of  a  public-house  and  fall  down,  and  he  said,  "  O  mamma 
dear,  look  there!  What's  that?"  "It  is  a  woman  fallen 
down,  darling."  "  What 's  the  matter  with  her,  mamma  ?  " 
"  She  has  been  drinking  too  much  beer,  darling."  "  Is  that 
what  you  drink,  mamma  ?  "  "  Yes,  darling ;  but  you  know  I 
take  it  as  a  medicine."  The  child  said  no  more. 

When  they  went  home,  some  days  passed  before  anything 
occurred.  One  bright  day  he  came  bounding  into  the  room 
where  his  mamma  sat  at  lunch  with  her  glass  of  ale,  and  said, 
"  I  feel  so  well,  mamma,  to-day.  Are  you  well  ?  "  "  Yes,  my 
dear."  "Are  you  perfectly  well,  mamma?"  "Yes,  dear,  I 
am  perfectly  well."  "  Then  what  do  you  take  medicine  for, 
mamma?"  She  could  not  answer.  Then  the  little  fellow 
put  his  hands  into  the  pockets  of  his  knickerbockers,  and 
said,  "  If  you  won't  take  any  more  beer,  main  ma,  I  will  give 
you  all  my  pocket-money  till  I  am  a  man."  "  That  was  irre- 
sistible," said  the  clergyman,  "and  now  my  wife  is  an  ab- 
stainer, and  never  touches  wine  or  beer,  under  any  circum- 
stances, nor  does  she  need  it." 

But  it  costs  something  to  give  it  up.  We  want  women  to  do 
something  to  help  us.  We  want  help,  rather  than  patronage. 
I  care  but  little  for  the  patting  on  the  back,  and  encouraging 
with  a  few  commonplace  words,  and  then  being  let  alone.  I 
remember  once,  in  Boston,  seeing  a  man  with  a  horse  and 
cart.  The  horse  had  a  heavy  load,  and  was  going  up  a  hill, 
and  could  not  get  along.  The  driver  was  very  kind,  and  said, 
"  Ge't  up ! "  But  the  horse  did  not  get  up.  There  was  a 
dude  standing  close  by,  who  looked  as  if  he  had  just 
come  out  of  a  bandbox.  Said  he  :  "  My  man,  you  don't 
understand  a  horse.  You  don't  manage  right.  You  will 
never  get  that  load  up  the  hill  in  that  way.  That  horse  has 
got  'set.'  Now  you  take  hold  of  the  horse  and  do  just  as  I 
tell  you.  Don't  stand  just  before  him,  stand  back  a  little. 


POWER  OF  THE  WILL.  333 

Take  hold  of  the  horse's  head.  Stand  back  now.  Don't 
stand  right  in  front.  Now  stand  sideways.  Oh  dear,  you  will 
never  get  your  horse  up  the  hill  in  that  way ; "  and  so  he 
went  on.  A  negro,  standing  on  the  other  side  of  the  road, 
came  across,  and,  putting  his  shoulder  to  the  wheel,  said, 
"  Now,  boss,  give  dot  horse  a  little  cut"  and  up  the  hill  they 
went.  Which  was  the  better  man,  the  dandy  or  the  negro  ? 


THE  NEGRO  AND  THE  DUDE. 


Give  me  the  man  who  will  help ;  who  will  say,  "  I  will  help 
you :  do  your  part,  and  I  will  do  mine." 

A  man  can  do  what  he  will.  That  is  doubtful  only  in  cases 
where  the  will  is  weakened  by  constant  indulgence.  We  ap- 
peal to  you,  then,  to  exercise  your  will  in  giving  up  that 
which  is  to  you  but  a  gratification,  for  the  sake  of  those  who 
cannot  use  it,  taste  it,  or  smell  it,  without  longing  for  it  with 
all  the  power  a  man  has,  and  this  is  not  their  fault.  I  know 
a  great  many  people  say  you  are  coddling  the  drunkard  by 
that  sort  of  language,  and  you  are  endeavoring  to  excuse 
drunkenness.  No,  I  do  not.  Drunkenness  is  a  sin  ;  but  it  is 

21 


334  MY  HORRIBLE  DREAMS. 

a  sin  that  in  this  life  brings  a  penalty  with  it,  while  there  are 
some  sins  that  do  not.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  getting 
drunk  is  the  worst  sin  in  the  world,  yet  I  have  such  a  horror 
of  drunkenness  that  the  worst  dreams  I  have  are  when  I 
dream  I  am  drinking.  I  get  up  sometimes  and  say,  "  O  Mary, 
I  have  had  such  a  horrible  dream."  "  What  was  it  ? "  "I 
dreamed  I  was  chewing  tobacco  and  drinking  rum,  and  ugh ! 
it  tasted  good'''  Oh,  how  I  hate  it,  and,  with  all  the  power  of 
prayer  I  have,  I  pray  God  to  keep  me  from  it. 

I  am  not  one  of  those  who  believe  in  great  sins  and  little 
sins.  I  believe  my  soul  is  bound  to  God  by  the  chain  of  his 
moral  law,  and  if  brie  link  of  that  chain  is  broken,  my  soul 
is  as  essentially  severed  from  God  as  if  every  link  were  shat- 
tered, and  must  remain  so  till  I  am  reconciled  to  Him  whose 
law  I  have  broken.  That  is  my  idea  of  sin.  A  sin  is  a  sin, 
but  this  sin  of  drunkenness  seems  to  embrace  all  others.  It 
seems  in  itself  to  involve  the  wholesale  violation  of  the  deca- 
logue :  for  men  do  have  other  gods  beside  Him ;  men  do 
take  the  name  of  the  Lord  their  God  in  vain ;  men  do  dis- 
honor their  fathers  and  their  mothers;  men  do  break  the 
seventh  commandment ;  men  do  disobey  his  command  with 
regard  to  the  Sabbath;  men  do  steal;  men  do  kill ;  men  do 
bear  false  witness  every  day ;  men  do  covet ;  all  through  the 
influence  of  drink,  —  either  directly  or  indirectly. 

I  wish  we  could  have  meetings  of  moderate  drinkers,  and 
that  some  of  the  most  prominent  of  them  would  reveal  to  us 
all  the  benefits  they  derive  from  it,  and  all  the  beauties  of 
the  system.  Why  should  we  have  it  all  our  own  way? 
Why  should  teetotalers  hold  meetings,  and  not  liquor-sellers, 
drunkards,  and  moderate  drinkers?  We  have  it  all  our  own 
way  because  there  can  be  no  reproach  brought  against  the 
principle  of  total  abstinence — pure  and  simple  total  absti- 
nence—  from  its  bitterest  opponents.  Mark  me,  I  am  not 


MORE  SYMPATHY  AND  LESS  FORMALITY  NEEDED.      335 

anatomizing  the  characters  and  reputations  of  all  total  ab- 
stainers. By  no  means.  I  am  speaking  of  the  total  absti- 
nence principle.  What  harm  has  it  ever  wrought  in  the 
community,  directly  or  indirectly? 

One  word  here  in  reference  to  the  lack  of  sympathy  with 
humanity  in  some  of  our  churches.  What  we  need  in  our 
religious  meetings  is  more  cordiality,  more  recognition  of  the 
claims  of  humanity.  I  have  been  into  a  church,  a  stranger, 
and  have  accepted  the  general  invitation  to  partake  of  the 
communion.  As  a  participant  in  that  service,  I  am  a  recog- 
nized member  of  the  church.  I  have  partaken  of  the  ele- 
ments, or  the  element  rather — for  I  never  touch  intoxicating 
wine,  even  at  the  communion,  and  I  believe  I  am  right  —  I 
have  partaken  of  the  element,  and  felt  I  was  in  this  way 
fulfilling  the  law  of  Christ,  and  showing  forth  the  Lord's 
death  until  he  should  come,  and  it  would  have  been  most 
gratifying  to  me  if  a  Christian  hand  had  grasped  mine  as  a 
brother's,  or  if  a  voice  had  said  to  me,  "  Good  day,  sir ;  glad 
to  see  you  here."  But  no  ;  every  one  walked  out  coldly  and 
cheerlessly,  and  I  have  turned  my  back  on  them,  going  forth 
alone,  and  have  gone  away  sad. 

Now,  if  it  had  been  in  an  Odd  Fellows'  lodge,  or  a  Free- 
masons' lodge,  or  a  Good  Templars'  room,  as  soon  as  I  was 
identified  with  the  movement,  as  I  was  by  that  communion 
identified  with  the  church,  there  would  not  have  been  a  man 
in  the  lodge  who  would  not  have  said,  "I  am  glad  to  see 
you."  Why  should  we  not  have  that  cordiality  in  the 
church  ? 

I  once  heard  a  man  say  at  a  meeting :  "  We  started  a 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  and  we  succeeded  very 
poorly  in  reaching  young  men.  We  spent  a  great  deal  of 
money.  We  had  our  reading-room,  —  a  place  where  young 
men  might  read  the  daily  and  the  illustrated  newspapers.  — « 


336 


WHY  HE  KEPT  HIS  HAT   ON. 


and  a  library,  with  a  warm  room  where  they  might  sit  and 
talk  if  they  wished.  We  provided  them  with  chess,  checkers,, 
and  occasionally  a  little  music ;  but  we  did  not  seem  to  get 
on.  One  evening  I  saw  a  young  man  walking  about  the 
room  with  his  hat  on.  I  thought  this  was  an  evidence  of 
contempt  for  us.  I  stepped  up  to  him  and  said,  '  Do  you  see 

that  notice  ;  "  Gentlemen 
«  are  requested  to  remove 
their  hats"?'  4  Yes,  I 
see  it.'  4Well,  why  do 
you  not  take  your  hat  off?' 


"HATS  OFF." 


here  every  night  for  some  three 
or  four  weeks,  off  and  on,  and  no 
one  has  spoken  a  word  to  me; 
so  I  thought,  if  I  kept  my  hat  on, 
perhaps  some  one  would  ask  me  to 
take  it  off,  and  I  should  get  ac- 
quainted.' From  that  moment  we 
saw  what  our  work  was,  and  we 
soon  began  to  lay  our  hands  on 
the  young  men,  and  now  we  have 
a  men's  Bible-class  numbering  some 
hundreds,  and  many  have  been  converted.  That  one  inci- 
dent opened  our  eyes."  Why  should  the  Church  of  Christ 
be  shut  to  any  individual  who  comes  to  the  door.  Oh  I 
thank  Him  that  He  is  to  be  our  Judge,  knowing  all  the 
circumstances  of  each  case.  Many  a  poor  creature  comes 
to  the  door  of  the  church  and  is  repelled.  I  say  to  re- 
formed drunkards,  Do  not  be  discouraged.  The  church 
is  opening  her  doors  on  all  sides  for  you.  If  she  shuts 
her  doors  against  you  the  Lord  Jesus  is  ready  to  take 
you.  His  arms  are  wide  open,  and  he  will  help  you 


EMINENT  FELLOW-WORKERS.  337 

through  all  your  difficulties  and  give  you  the  victory  over 
your  foes. 

I  plead  on  behalf  of  this  movement,  entreating  you  to 
give  it — if  not  your  whole  influence — your  best  thoughts. 
We  rejoice  to-day  that  there  is  such  a  coming  towards  us 
on  the  part  of  those  who  have  hitherto  held  aloof.  When 
I  was  in  England  some  thirty  years  ago,  if  we  had  engaged 
the  vicar  of  a  parish  to  preside  at  a  meeting,  we  were 
wonderfully  set  up,  whispering  all  round,  "The  vicar  is 
to  preside."  Now  we  have  four  or  five  teetotal  bishops ; 
two  of  them  have  presided  at  my  meetings,  —  the  Bishop 
of  Exeter  and  the  Bishop  of  Rochester, — and  I  never 
heard  stronger  teetotal  speeches  from  mortal  man  than  from 
these  men.  Now  such  men  are  working  with  us.  I  am  told 
that  six  or  seven  of  the  Queen's  chaplains  are  teetotalers. 
The.  Church  of  England  Temperance  Society  is  embracing  a 
large  number  of  men  and  women.  This  society  reminds  me 
of  a  man  who  said,  "  I  am  wearing  this  hat  out  by  degrees, 
for  the  rim  is  gone  and  there  is  a  hole  in  the  crown,"  — and 
the  leaders  of  the  Church  of  England  Temperance  Society 
are  taking  men  in  by  degrees.  They  are  willing  to  take 
them  on  the  moderate  ground,  and  they  will  take  them  on 
the  ground  of  drinking  at  the  social  circle  only,  and  they 
will  take  them  as  personal  abstainers. 

I  do  not  condemn  them  at  all.  I  am  glad  of  anything 
that  tends  to  the  great  end  of  abolishing  the  drinking  cus- 
toms, and  I  believe  that  the  total  abstinence  movement  to- 
day is  advocated  by  such  men  and  supported  by  such  agencies 
and  influences  that  no  Christian  man  can  engage  in  it,  even 
in  the  very  outskirts,  without  being  drawn  into  the  centre 
by  the  power  of  the  attraction  of  the  love  of  souls.  There- 
fore I  rejoice  fully  in  this  Church  of  England  Temperance 
Society.  And  I  find  that  everywhere  men  are  willing  to 


838  BETTY'S   FIGHT  WITH  A  BEAR. 

give  us  their  countenance.  You  know  I  care  but  little  for 
what  is  called  patronage ;  in  fact,  I  do  not  like  it.  I  care 
but  little  for  those  who  are  merely  lookers-on.  "  You  do  the 
work,  it  is  a  good  cause,  but  I  am  not  identified  with  you." 
You  know  it  is  a  good  cause. 

These  non-committal  people  remind  me  of  a  story  I  have 
often  told.  It  is  an  old  story,  but  you  can  scarcely  get  a 
new  one  unless  you  make  it ;  and  often  when  you  have  in- 
vented the  story  and  used  it,  some  other  speaker  will  appro- 
priate it  and  say  you  stole  it  from  him ;  so  it  is  as  well  to  use 
the  old  story  if  it  illustrates  the  point.  There  was  a  man 
who  was  something  of  a  coward.  He  was  in  his  house  one 
day,  with  his  wife,  when  a  bear  walked  in.  .He  was  awfully 
afraid  of  bears.  When  this  bear  came  in,  the  man  looked 
round,  not  for  a  weapon  of  defence,  but  for  a  way  of  escape ; 
and,  seeing  a  ladder  leading  to  the  rafters,  he  climbed  the 
ladder  and  drew  it  up  after  him.  His  wife  was  a  courageous 
woman.  She  seized  a  shovel.  Putting  her  two  children 
behind  her,  she  faced  the  bear  in  their  defence.  As  the 
animal  approached,  the  shovel  was  raised,  and  the  woman  hit 
the  bear  a  terrible  crack,  bringing  his  head  between  his  legs. 
And  there  on  the  rafter  sat  her  husband. 

Now  that  man's  sympathies  were  all  in  the  right  direction. 
He  had  no  sympathy  with  the  bear  and  he  really  hoped  that 
Betty  would  be  very  successful  in  her  glorious  enterprise. 
As  the  fight  went  on,  he  became  excited.  By  and  by  he 
began  to  encourage  her,  and  shouted,  "  Well  done,  Betty ! 
That  was  a  good  knock.  Now  take  him  on  the  other  side," 
and  so  on  till  Betty  hit  the  final  blow  and  the  bear  gave 
a  final  kick.  And  then  the  husband  came  down  from  his  safe 
retreat.  "  Well,  that 's  a  bigger  bear  than  I  thought  it  was, 
Betty,  and  I  consider  we  have  done  gloriously."  When  the 
work  is  done,  "  we,"  and  when  the  work  is  to  be  done,  "  you." 


FIGHTING  SIN.  341 

Now  we  ask  for  help,  influence,  co-operation  in  this  work, 
believing  that  we  shall  in  the  end  be  successful.  Every 
great  movement  is  progressive.  We  cannot  carry  out  our 
reform  all  at  once.  It  may  take  generation  after  generation. 
What  of  that  ?  We  should  so  identify  ourselves  with  every 
great  movement  as  to  feel  that  we  are  co-operating  with  God 
and  angels  in  preventing  sin  —  THAT,  it  seems  to  me,  is  what 
we  should  aim  at.  A  gentleman  said  to  me  once,  "  Mr. 
Gough,  according  to  your  teaching,  the  devil  is  stronger  than 
God  is."  I  am  not  a  theologian.  I  do  not  know  whether  it 
needs  any  theological  knowledge  to  rebut  such  an  accusation 
as  that.  Satan  is  the  god  of  this  world,  and  the  great  object 
is  to  fight  Satan  and  win  the  world  back  to  God.  And  if 
we  can  co-operate  with  Him  and  His  holy  angels  in  rescuing 
this  sin-cursed  world  from  the  grasp  of  Satan,  then  we  who 
work  shall  cast  our  crowns  before  Him,  laying  our  laurels  at 
His  feet,  and  shall  worship  Him  who  has  subdued  all  things 
unto  Himself,  and  who  has  honored  us  by  making  us  co- 
workers  with  Him. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 


SLIPPERY  PLACES  —  TKAPS   FOR    THE   UNWARY  —  PATHETIC 
SCENES   AND   INCIDENTS  —  HOME   SHADOWS. 

Alsopp's  Brewery — An  Incident  of  My  Visit  to  Old  Virginia  —  Firm  Con- 
victions —  Ridiculous  Arguments  of  Women  —  Extracts  From  Letters  I 
Have  Received  —  When  Does  Drinking  Become  a  Sin  ?  —  How  a  Church 
Member  Behaved  at  One  of  My  Lectures  —  Moderate  Drinking  —  How 
the  Church  Regards  It  —  A  Quaker's  Advice  to  His  Son  —  How  Not  to 
Get  Drunk  —  The  Power  of  Will  —  The  Fakir  of  India  —  Cries  of  De- 
spair —  The  Curse  of  the  World  —  The  Little  Cripple  —  A  Pitiful  Sight- 
Dreadful  Afflictions  —  "!  Am  So  Tired "— Pathetic  Incidents  — A 
Father's  Prayer  —  Touching  Home  Scenes  —  "  Hush  !  Hush  !  Hush  ! "  — 
Dealing  With  Facts  —  A  Father's  Sad  Story  —  The  Power  of  Appetite  — 
A  Minister's  Experience — A  Night  of  Agony  —  Wrestling  with  the  De- 
stroyer—  An  Awful  Fight — Onward,  Upward,  Victory. 


F  there  is  no  good  in  the  drink 
as  a  beverage  (and  we  have 
proved  that  in  another  place), 
why   should   we    not    battle 
against  it?     We  mean  to  do 
that  to  the  end,  —  yes,  to  the 
end.     People  say  sometimes, 
"  Do  you  think  you  will  ever 
succeed  ? "       We     succeed  '      Thank 
the    dear   Lord,  it  is  not   our  work. 
Ours  is  the  labor;  in  his  hands  are 
the  results;  we  have  nothing  to  do 

with  them,  except  to  be  grateful  when  they  come.  "Am  I 
right?"  That  is  the  great  question,  and  then  steadily  on, 
and  work.  Visit  one  of  the  large  breweries,  see  the  inter- 
minable mass  of  warehouses  and  stacks  of  chimneys  and 
342 


AN  EXPLODED   BELIEF.  343 

mountains  of  barrels,  and  you  may  say,  as  I  said  when  I  saw 
Alsopp's  brewery :  "  Is  it  not  very  much  like  knocking  your 
head  against  a  stone  wall  to  undertake  to  talk  against  all  the 
great  investments  in  the  brewing  and  distilling  business  of 
the  country  ?  "  We  are  often  asked :  "  What  can  you  do  ? 
Look  at  the  moneyed  interests,  the  millions  of  dollars  in- 
vested in  this  business,  and  then  at  the  drinking  habits  of 
the  people,"  etc.  Verily,  a  formidable  array  of  opposing 
forces. 

I  was  in  Virginia  in  184647,  in  the  palmy  days,  as  they 
call  them,  of  slavery;  and,  in  conversation  with  my  host, 
Mr.  William  Reed,  on  the  subject  of  slavery  (for  in  those 
days  we  could  speak  more  freely  with  Southern  slave-holders 
than  we  could  with  the  miserable  dough-faced  apologists  for 
slavery  in  the  North),  he  said:  "What  are  you  going  to  do? 
What  is  all  this  agitation  for  in  the  North  ?  What  do  you 
expect  to  accomplish?  You  talk  about  England's  buying 
the  freedom  of  her  slaves.  So  she  did  ;  but  they  were  so 
many  thousand  miles  away.  Here  our  slaves  are  born  in  our 
houses ;  they  are  part  of  our  families.  It  is  a  domestic  insti- 
tution, a  patriarchal  institution ;  it  is  woven  into  the  very 
domestic  life  of  the  people  of  the  South.  You  cannot  tear  it 
out.  Here  are  servants  I  have  had  in  my  house  ever  since 
they  were  born.  They  are  now  grown  up.  I  respect  them 
and  I  treat  them  well.  You  can't  break  up  this  system.  Are 
you  Northern  people  ready  to  pay  five  thousand  million 
dollars,  the  estimated  value  of  the  slaves  in  the  United 
States  ?  Five  thousand  million  dollars !  Where  are  you 
going  to  get  it?  There  is  no  use  in  talking  about  it.  As 
long  as  the  United  States  endures,  so  long  will  slavery  be 
the  peculiar  institution,  and,  I  believe,  the  cornerstone  of  our 
republic.  So  you  may  as  well  hold  your  tongue." 

But  we  did  not  hold  our  tongues.     It  is  our  privilege  to 


344  RIGHT  AGAINST  WRONG. 

protest  against  wrong,  though  wrong  sits  on  the  throne. 
Well,  we  fought  the  battle  in  Kansas,  Nebraska,  and  Cali- 
fornia, and  won  it.  Then  the  slavery  party  determined  to 
encroach  on  our  territories,  and  enlarge  the  area  of  slavery, 
and  you  know  very  well  the  war  came  on.  Five  thousand 
million  dollars!  Yes.  God  took  it  out  of  men's  hands 
altogether.  The  cry  of  the  oppressed  entered  the  ears  of  the 
Lord  God  of  Sabaoth,  and,  at  a  sacrifice  of  half  a  million  lives 
and  millions  of  treasure,  and  amid  blood  and  fire  and  smoke 
and  tears,  slavery  was  extinguished  forever. 

Now,  I  say,  what  are  millions  in  his  sight  when  he  wills  ? 
And  I  would  further  say,  that  I  believe  he  wills  that  every 
wrong  shall  cease,  for  he  tells  us  to  pray,  "  Thy  will  be 
done  in  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven ; "  and,  as  I  have  said  in 
another  place,  there  is  a  promise  involved  in  that  petition. 
We  are  never  bidden  to  pray  for  that  which  is  not  to  be,  but 
for  that  which  is  to  come.  His  will  is  to  be  done,  and  all 
wrong  is  to  be  trampled  under  the  feet  of  the  right.  He 
wills  when  we  will.  Woe  be  to  the  man  who  stands  in 
defence  of  a  wrong,  for  it  must  be  against  God's  will ;  on 
such  a  one  the  responsibility  rests,  and  it  is  an  awful  one. 
We  are  seeking  to  remove  that  which  produces  untold  misery. 
We  need  the  young  men  in  their  manly  strength  and  vigor  to 
help  us.  We  want  the  respectability,  the  intelligence,  the  piety 
of  the  country  to  help  us.  We  ask  the  women  to  help  us  by 
their  gentle  and  winning  influence,  as  well  as  by  their  vigor- 
ous intellects,  to  bring  men  to  the  point  of  total  abstinence. 
Oh,  I  am  grieved  to  find  so  many  good  women  against  us. 

I  have  received  letters  that  make  me  think  all  the  fools  in 
the  world  are  not  dead.  I  never  heard  suijh  ridiculous  argu- 
ments in  my  life  as  I  have  heard  from  ladies  in  favor  of 
moderate  drinking.  One  of  them  writes  :  "  Mr.  Gough,  it  is 
all  very  well  to  talk  against  drunkenness,  but  do  not  be  so 


A  QUESTION  FOR  THEOLOGIANS.  345 

rabid  as  to  talk  against  the  drink,  for  it  is  a  good  thing." 
Drink  "  a  good  thing !  "  And  then  comes  the  argument  that 
so  many  women  love,  the  scriptural  argument.  Now,  I  am 
not  able  to  meet  that,  because  I  do  not  know  whether  the 
Saviour  drank  intoxicating  wine  or  non-intoxicating  wine.  I 
know  that  he  made  wine,  and  I  know  that  he  made  it  by  a 
miracle.  And  a  gentleman  told  me  that,  because  he  made 
it  by  a  miracle,  he  felt  bound  to  use  it,  for  it  was  a  sanctified 
article  of  diet.  I  respected  his  reasons ;  to  be  sure,  I  did. 
He  was  honest  in  his  conviction.  And  when  I  said  to  him, 
"  Why  don't  you  eat  barley  bread  ?  —  the  Saviour  manufac- 
tured barley  bread  by  a  miracle,  and  that  is  a  sanctified  article 
of  diet  as  well  as  the  wine,"  —  he  "didn't  like  barley  bread." 
Ah,  now  we  have  it !  Don't  you  see  ?  that  is  just  it.  You 
will  not  eat  barley  bread  because  you  "  do  not  like  it."  I  ask 
you  to  put  away  the  wine  which  you  do  like,  that  you  may 
bear  the  infirmity  of  a  weaker  brother,  and  fulfil  the  law  of 
Christ  by  example  as  well  as  by  precept. 

You  say  it  is  a  sin  to  get  drunk.  Well,  I  am  not  theolo- 
gian enough  to  split  hairs  about  that ;  but  I  should  like  to 
ask  some  theologian  to  define  just  the  time  when  it  becomes 
sin.  When  does  it  become  sin  ?  When  a  man  gets  drunk  ? 
What  is  it  to  get  drunk  ?  It  is  not  a  sin,  you  say,  to  drink 
a  glass  of  liquor.  "  Oh,  no  !  that  is  not  a  sin."  "  Well,  sup- 
pose I  drink  a  glass  of  liquor,  or  you  do,  and  it  affects  your 
head,  and  you  are  maudlin  and  silly ;  that  is  a  sin  ?  "  "  Yes." 
What  does  the  sin  consist  of?  Where  is  the  sin?  In  drink- 
ing, or  in  the  effect  produced  by  the  drink  upon  the  brain 
and  nervous  system  ?  I  leave  theologians  to  settle  that  mat- 
ter as  they  will. 

Once,  when  speaking  in  a  church,  I  saw  a  man  sitting  with 
his  feet  on  the  back  of  one  of  the  pews,  eating  apples,  and 
spitting  and  puffing  about,  as  if  throwing  contempt  on  all 


346 


A  CONSPICUOUS  MUNCHER. 


connected  with  the  affair.     I  said  to  the  minister :  "  Who  is 
that  man  ?  " 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say,  he  is  a  member  of  my  church." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  him  ?  " 

"  I  told  some  of  the  officers  of  the  church  to  look  after 
him  to-night,  for  I  saw  the  plight  he  was  in." 

"  Shall  you  not  discipline  him  ?  " 

"I  will  if  lean." 

"  I  'm  glad  I  'm  not  a  member  of  your  church ;  if  I  was,  I 
would  get  out  of  it 
to-morrow,  if  there  is 
such  a  word  as  '  can ' 
in  reference  to  a  case 
so  gross  as  that." 

"  Mr.  Gough,"  said 
the  minister,  "we  can- 
not discipline  him  for 
drunkenness  while 
there  is  so  much  mode- 
rate drinking,  as  it  is 
called,  in  my  church. 
That  man  will  take  a  couple  of  glasses  of  brandy  and  water, 
and  will  then  be  in  the  state  you  see  him  ;  but  there  are  many 
men  in  my  church  who  take  six  or  eight  glasses  without  getting 
drunk,  and  we  cannot  make  any  particular  offence  of  that." 

We  come  then  to  moderation,  so  called.  As  I  have  said 
before,  —  I  say  now,  —  every  man  who  becomes  a  drunkard 
becomes  so  in  trying  to  be  a  moderate  drinker,  and  he  does  it 
by  argument,  and  by  coming  to  certain  conclusions.  A  man 
will  say  to  me :  "  Oh,  I  can  let  it  alone  when  I  please."  Yes, 
you  can  let  it  alone  if  you  please.  We  will  change  the  word 
"when"  to  "if."  You  can  give  it  up  if  you  please.  But 
suppose  you  don't  please,  what  then  ?  Now,  the  possession 


ONE   OF   MY  LISTENERS. 


A   QUAKER'S   ADVICE.  347 

of  power  is  of  no  value  unless  I  have  the  will  to  exercise  that 
power.  I  have  sometimes  thought  it  was  an  awful  fact  that 
God  has  given  to  every  man  a  will  (I  say  it  with  reverence) 
independent  of  His  will.  Amid  thunderings  and  lightnings, 
when  the  voice  was  so  terrible  that  the  people  begged  they 
might  hear  it  no  more  lest  they  die,  God  spake  these  words : 
"  Thou  shalt  not,"  and  we  can,  and  do,  say,  "  I  will."  Christ 
says,  "  Come  unto  me,"  and  we  can,  and  do,  say,  "  I  will  not." 
You  say,  "I  can,  but  I  won't."  Why  not  say,  "I  can,  and  I ' 
WILL?"  As  a  Quaker  once  said  to  his  son:  "John,  thee  can 
leave  off  drinking  just  as  easily  as  thee  can  open  thy  hand." 
"How?"  "Why,  when  thee  gets  a  glass  in  thy  hand,  and 
raiseth  it  to  thy  mouth,  just  open  thy  hand,  and  thee  will 
never  get  drunk,"  So  we  say  to  a  man,  "  you  can  IF  you 
will."  You  possess  the  power,  but  you  have  no  will  to  exer- 
cise that  power.  I  can  open  my  hand  if  I  please,  —  if  I  will. 
Suppose  I  do  not  please,  and  have  no  will  to  do  it ;  my  hand 
remains  closed,  and  it  will  remain  closed  till  the  nails  grow 
into  the  flesh,  and  the  arm  grows  rigid.  Now,  there  comes  a 
necessity  for  using  that  arm,  I  must  use  it ;  my  life  depends 
on  my  using  it ;  and  now  I  will  use  it,  but  I  cannot  God 
have  mercy  on  any  young  man  who  begins  to  feel  the  fetters 
of  habit  gall  him,  and  shall  go  out  as  Samson  did,  saying,  "  I 
will  shake  myself  as  at  other  times,"  but  finds  the  power 
gone ;  he  has  the  will  in  all  its  intensity,  but  no  power,  and 
he  cries  in  bitterness  of  spirit,  "  Who  shall  deliver  me  from 
these  terrible  bonds." 

They  tell  us  that  in  India  there  are  fakirs,  who  stand  with 
arms  uplifted;  their  nails  like  eagles'  claws,  their  muscles 
rigid,  and  their  hands  upright.  Years  ago,  when  they  first 
held  up  their  arms,  you  might  have  said  to  one  of  these 
fakirs  :  "  Take  down  your  arm."  "  I  can  if  I  please  ;  it  is  an 
act  of  my  own  free  will."  Go  to  that  devotee  now  and  say 


348 


A  CRY  OF  DESPAIR. 


to  him,  "  Take  down  your  arm,  friend."  "  I  can't."  "Well, 
but  you  told  me  you  could."  "  Ah !  I  could  once ;  but  I 
have  lost  the  power;  my  arm  is  rigid;  I  have  no  power 
over  my  nerves,  and  there  it  must  remain;  if  it  is  ever 
again  brought  to  my  side,  it  must  be  by  another  agency 
than  my  own,  wrenching  and  cracking  my  shrivelled  sinews, 
and  my  arm  will  then  hang  at  my  side  useless."  And  so 
with  this  influence,  "  I  can,  but  I  won't."  There  is  many  a 
'drunkard  who  would  with  all  his  heart  and  soul,  but  he  fears 
that  he  can't.  I  know  of  no  more 
fearful  cry  than  the  cry  of  despair:  "I 
can't  give  it  up  !  "  I  have  held  men's 
hands  in  mine,  and  looked  in  their  faces 
while  the  tears  streamed 
down  their  cheeks,  and  I 
have  pleaded  with  them, 
for  the  love  of  their  fami- 
lies, for  the  love  of  their  =^_ 
country,  and  in  view  of 
their  responsibility  before 
God,  to  give  up  drink ;  and 
they  have  cried  out,  "I 
can't."  "But  you  can." 
"I  can't."  "God  will 
help  you."  "He  won't!" 
have  cried  to  the  very  last. 

The  difference  between  you,  sir,  and  the  man  who  staggers 
on  the  verge  of  perdition  is  this :  you  can,  but  you  will  not ; 
and  he  would  with  all  his  soul,  but  cannot,  —  the  power  is  gone. 
Nothing  weakens  a  man's  will  and  affects  his  self-control 
more  than  the  influence  of  drink.  You  say,  "  I  have  a  mind 
of  my  own."  To  be  sure,  you  have  ;  but  do  you  suppose  that 
every  man  who  becomes  a  drunkard  had  no  mind  of  his  own, 


DESPAIR. 


"Oh,  I  can't!   I  can't!"   they 


AN  ENCHANTING  SCENE.  349 

and  came  into  the  world  without  any  will-power  or  any  facul- 
ties such  as  you  possess ?  "I  have  a  mind  of  my  own.  I  am 
not  such  a  fool  as  to  become  a  drunkard."  Some  of  the 
brightest  intellects,  men  of  superb  genius,  have  gone  into 
utter  darkness  through  the  influence  of  drink. 

Did  you  ever  see  the  sun  set  on  a  bright  autumn  day  at 
the  close  of  an  Indian  summer  ?  How  mellow  he  grew  as  he 
sank  in  the  west,  so  mellow  and  so  soft  that  you  could  fold 
your  arms  and  gaze  into  his  face,  and  drink  your  fill  of  the 
enchanted  scene.  Have  you  never  watched  him  until  the 
upper  disc  was  just  visible  against  that  ridge  of  mountains, 
and  you  have  looked  around  and  seen  the  tree-top  and  hill-top 
and  landscape  flooded  with  one  gush  of  mellow  light ;  and 
you  have  looked  again,  and  the  sun  was  gone ;  but  its  setting 
has  been  to  you,  in  the  remembrance,  "  a  thing  of  beauty ;  " 
it  has  mingled  with  all  your  dreams  of  the  beautiful.  Ah, 
how  many  men  have  arisen,  or  might  have  arisen,  and  cheered 
and  warmed  and  illumined  us  with  their  beams,  and  whose 
setting  would  have  been  to  us  a  glorious  remembrance  and 
a  "joy  forever!"  How  many  men  have  flashed  before  us 
like  meteors,  dazzling  us  with  their  brilliancy.  We  love  not 
to  think  of  their  former  brightness,  because  it  is  so  pain- 
fully contrasted  with  the  darkness  into  which,  alas !  they 
have  passed.  Oh,  it  is  pitiful  to  see  the  mind  and  the  intel- 
lect and  the  genius  all  wrapped  in  a  death-shroud  of  dark- 
ness, and  to  see  a  man  capable  of  rising  to  a  high,  noble,  and 
glorious  position,  become  a  mean,  miserable,  and  sensual  sot. 

We  are  told,  and  I  have  been  told,  "  You  temperance  men 
exaggerate,  you  exaggerate  the  evils."  One  newspaper  said 
my  facts  were  "rather  far-fetched  and  strange."  Strange! 
When  we  describe  the  evils  of  drunkenness,  will  you  tell  us 
we  can  bring  anything  far-fetched  ?  If  we  searched  into  the 
depths  of  the  nethermost  hell  we  could  bring  up  victims ;  and 


350  A  TERRIBLE  AFFLICTION. 

I  believe  angels  from  heaven,  with  folded  wings  and  sad 
faces,  look  upon  this  awful  curse  of  the  world.  Far-fetched ! 
I  ask  any  of  my  readers  if  this  can  be  true. 

You  have  a  bright  and  beautiful  boy.  He  bounds  into 
your  room  to-morrow  morning,  and  lays  his  soft  cheek  against 
your  face.  As  his  little  arms  twine  round  your  neck,  how  you 
love  him  !  What  would  you  do,  what  would  you  not  give,  to 
save  that  child  from  curvature  of  the  spine  ?  "  What,  what  ?  " 
What  would  you  do  to  save  that  child  from  curvature  of  the 
spine?  "What?  Do?  Anything!"  What  would  you 
give  ?  "  All  I  have  in  the  world."  What  would  you  sacri- 
fice? "Every  luxury  under  heaven."  What  would  you 
suffer  ?  "  Try  me  !  What  would  I  not  do,  give,  or  suffer, 
rather  than  see  that  boy,  so  bright  and  beautiful,  with  his 
bright  eyes,  rosy  cheeks,  and  rounded  limbs  so  full  of  elas- 
ticity, a  crawling  cripple  upon  the  floor?  Don't  ask  me! 
I  would  give,  do,  or  suffer  anything." 

I  was  a  guest  at  the  house  of  a  lady  and  gentleman  who 
had  a  child  that  had  fallen  out  of  a  swing  when  he  was  four 
years  old.  It  was  an  extraordinary  case.  Physicians  often 
came  to  see  the  child,  the  body  had  so  strangely  developed. 
When  I  saw  him  he  was  twenty-three  years  of  age,  and  yet 
his  arms  and  legs,  hands  and  feet,  were  those  of  a  child  four 
years  old.  It  was  pitiful  to  see  him  upon  his  stomach,  work- 
ing himself  along  the  floor  with  his  hands  and  feet,  like  a 
turtle.  One  day  he  said  to  his  mother,  "  Ah,  mother,  I  shan't 
trouble  you  much  longer."  "  Trouble,  darling,  trouble  !  You 
are  the  light  of  our  home,  you  are  the  joy  of  our  household. 
Trouble !  We  are  learning  lessons  of  trust  and  faith  and 
patience  from  you  every  day.  When  God  takes  you  from 
us  it  will  be  a  dark  day  for  our  home."  "  Yes,"  said  the  lit- 
tle fellow,  looking  up  from  the  floor,  "  yes,  mamma,  but  1  am 
so  tired  ;  and  when  I  die  I  shall  go  to  heaven,  and  when  I  am 
with  the  angels,  I  shall  stand  up  straight" 


A  FATHER'S  PRAYER.  351 

Now  there  is  beauty,  loveliness,  sweetness,  and  glory  clus- 
tering around  that  crippled  son.  Is  there  any  around  a 
drunken  son  ?  Is  there  ?  Tell  me.  Is  there  any  light  but 
the  light  that  comes  lurid  from  hell  ?  Oh,  it  is  pitiful  I 

What  would  you  not  do  to  save  your  child  from  epilepsy  ? 
"  Oh,  dear  me  !  that  is  a  worse  case  than  the  other."  I  was 
once  a  guest  at  the  house  of  a  gentleman,  a  minister  of  the 
gospel.  He  had  a  child  afflicted  with  epilepsy.  While  we 
were  sitting  in  the  room  we  heard  a  strange  gurgling  noise. 
We  turned  and  saw  the  child  twisting  round  upon  his  heels, 
foaming  at  his  mouth,  his  eyes  turned  inward.  The  mother 
rushed  to  the  child ;  the  father  dropped  upon  his  knees ;  and 
there  fell  from  his  lips  such  a  prayer  as  I  scarcely  ever  heard. 
"  O  thou  Saviour  of  sinners,  and  thou  Redeemer  of  men,  have 
mercy  on  my  boy ;  for  ofttimes  he  falleth  into  the  fire,  and  oft- 
times  he  falleth  into  the  water ;  there  is  no  hope  for  him  but 
from  thee."  Then  he  said  to  me,  "  When  I  remember  what 
that  boy  was  four  years  ago,  the  head  of  his  class  at  school, 
and  now  see  him  stand  before  me  with  fingers  stretched  wide 
apart,  crying  4  Papa,  I  cannot  think,'  oh,  it  is  breaking  my 
heart  to  see  my  child  growing  idiotic  !  It  is  breaking  his 
mother's  heart,  too,  and  yet,  sir,  as  I  am  a  man  and  a  minis- 
ter of  the  gospel,  his  mother  and  I  would  rather  see  him 
just  like  that  than  see  him  a  drunkard."  So  would  you. 
There  is  no  man  or  woman  who  would  dare  to  say  that  they 
would  not  rather  the  Almighty  should  smite  their  child  as  He 
will,  than  that  the  child  should  smite  himself  and  become  a 
drunkard. 

Some  time  afterwards  I  met  this  gentleman  on  Broadway. 
He  said  to  me,  "  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Gough  ?  "     I  said,  "  How 

do  you  do,  Mr.  W ?     How  is  Harry?"     "O,  Harry  is 

well."     "Is  he  cured?"     "The  Saviour  loved  that  suffering 
child  and  took  him  home,  and  one  anticipation  I  have  is  that 
22 


g52  DESOLATE   HOMES. 

by  and  by  in  the  better  land,  where  there  is  no  more  sighing 
and  no  more  crying,  and  110  more  suffering  and  no  more 
dying,  there  I  shall  meet  my  Harry."  Did  you  ever  know  a 
father  talk  like  that  of  a  boy  who  died  a  drunkard  ?  Did  you 
ever  hear  of  a  father  who  talked  like  that  of  a  boy  who  died 
a  sot  ?  No ;  on  the  contrary,  there  is  no  brightness  in  the 
memory,  there  is  no  joy  in  the  remembrance,  the  very  name 
is  forbidden  to  be  spoken  ;  hush,  hush,  hush  I 

Oh,  I  have  been  in  homes  concerning  which  it  has  been  said 
to  me :  "  If  you  go  to  that  house,  don't  say  anything  about 
their  eldest  son  —  hush,  hush !  It  is  a  sad  home  ;  they  have 
taken  down  his  portrait  from  the  wall,  they  have  removed  his 
.photograph  from  the  album,  for  it  was  a  noble  face,  and  the} 
cannot  bear  to  think  of  him  as  he  was,  his  career  and  untimely 
end  were  so  awful." 

Do  we  exaggerate  the  evil  of  drunkenness  ?  Can  we  exag- 
gerate when  it  draws  its  slimy  length  across  the  threshold  oi 
your  homes  and  twines  itself  around  some  loved  and  beautiful 
child  ?  I  ask  you,  are  our  arguments  or  our  facts  far-fetched  ? 
Bring  them  home,  and  the  nearer  home  you  bring  them  the 
more  appalling  they  are. 

I  deal  with  FACTS.  Some  say  I  have  no  logic.  Very 
well,  I  never  pretended  to  have  any ;  but  I  believe  that  the 
most  important  truths  are  those  that,  as  a  general  thing,  are 
accepted  as  truths  without  any  logic.  It  is  much  better  foi 
me  to  state  the  truth  plainly,  so  that  you  will  accept  it, 
than  to  undertake  to  prove  to  you  by  logic,  even  if  I  were 
able,  that  a  truth  is  a  truth  absolutely,  a  truth  positively, 
a  truth  most  assuredly,  a  truth  certainly,  in  all  respects  a 
truth,  symmetrically  a  truth,  etc.  If  I  illustrate  the  truth 
in  its  practical  working,  I  put  life  into  it  and  show  how  the 
truth  works  in  common  life  ;  and  that,  for  nine  tenths  of  the? 
common  people,  is  much  better,  in  my  opinion,  than  logic. 


IN  THE  POWER  OF  A  DEMON. 


353 


But  I  will  deal  with  facts.     I  want  to  show  something  of  the 
power  of  this  appetite. 

A  gentleman  said  to  me :  "  It  is  very  hard,  after  I  have 
been  fighting  the  drink  all  my  life,  that  it  should  come  at 
last  into  my  house.  I  have  six  children,  five  daughters  and 
a  son.  Four  of  my  daughters  are  married,  my  youngest  is 
living  with  me.  My  only  son  is  dying."  He  had  delirium 

tremens  a  second  time. 
The  physician,  who  knew 
him  very  well,  arid  knew 
the  whole  family,  gave  me 
the  details  of  this  young 
man's  case.  He  said  that 
lie  went  to  him  on  the 
second  attack  and  said  to 
him :  "Charley, you  know 
me.  You  know  I  am  your 
friend.  You  are  going  to 
have  a  hard  siege  of  it,  my 
boy,  a  very  tough  time ; 
but  I  think,  with  your 
constitution  and  my 
skill  and  God's  provi- 
dence, I  may  pull  you  through  and  bring  you  on  your  feet ; 
but,  Charley,  if  healthy  blood  again  courses  through  your 
veins,  never  touch  another  ,drop.  If  you  ever  drink  again, 
do  not  send  for  me ;  this  disease  will  come  on  you  swiftly, 
and  you  are  a  dead  man."  The  young  man  looked  in  his  face 
and  said:  "Doctor,  do  you  say  I  shall  suffer?  What  do  you 
know  about  it  ?  I  feel  it  creeping  on  me  now.  Oh  !  —  it  — 
•is  —  coming  —  doctor.  If  you  can  prove  to  me  there  is  no  phy- 
isical  suffering  in  hell,  I  will  cut  my  throat.  There  is  no  men- 
tal anguish  that  I  can  imagine  which  can  compare  with  what 


OH!   IT  IS   COMING,    DOCTOIl.' 


354 


BEGGING  FOR  ONE   SPOONFUL. 


I  know  is  coming.  It  —  is  —  coming  —  now  —  doctor.  Oh, 
doctor,  I  have  felt  great  spiders  drawing  their  soft  bodies 
with  hairy  legs  all  over  my  face  and  creeping  into  my  mouth. 
Green  flies  have  been  buzzing  in  my  ears  and  crawling  into 
my  nostrils.  Ah!  ah!  They  —  are  —  coming  —  now!"  And 


ONLY  JUST  A  SPOONFUL. 


in  five  minutes  two  men  were 
holding  him  in  his  agony.  For 
ten  days  and  ten  nights  he  suf- 
fered unutterable  torments. 

He  got  on  his  feet  at  last.  The  third  day  after  he  was  able  to 
get  out  of  his  bed  he  walked  into  the  street,  feeble  and  shaken, 
leaning  on  two  sticks.  He  went  into  a  saloon  and  said :  "  Give 
me  a  tablespoonful  of  brandy,  just  a  spoonful.  I  need  it  very 
badly.  Don't  tell  anybody  about  it.  Only  just  a  spoonful,  I 
need  it."  The  man  gave  it,  and  "  Now,"  said  that  father,  "  he 
is  dying  in  such  agony  that  his  family  cannot  look  upon  him." 


CONQUERING  THE  ENEMY.  355 

What  do  you  think  of  an  appetite  like  that  ?  What  do  you 
think  of  a  power  like  that  ?  Let  men  break  that !  I  tell  you 
that  it  requires  great  strength  of  mind,  great  firmness  of  pur- 
pose, and  great  decision  of  character  to  do  it.  Thank  God, 
we  have  thousands  in  our  ranks  who  have  burst  the  fetters 
that  bound  them,  who  have  trampled  their  enemy  under  foot, 
and  who  stand  to-day  free  from  the  damning  influences  of 
drink. 

I  speak  particularly  of  the  power  of  this  appetite.  We 
know  well  what  men  will  do  to  gratify  it,  what  they  will  sac- 
rifice, what  they  will  suffer ;  and  when  the  pinch  conies  —  oh, 
the  battle  !  I  love  to  see  such  a  man  fight,  don't  you  ?  It 
is  a  grand  thing  to  see  him  in  such  a  struggle.  I  like  to 
whisper  in  his  ear,  "  Courage,  my  brother." 

A  minister  of  the  gospel  said  to  me :  "  I  was  once  a  sad 
drunkard,  and  I  signed  the  pledge.  Many  times  I  have  been 
in  the  ditch.  When  I  became  converted  I  made  up  my  mind 
I  would  study  for  the  ministry.  I  was  a  student.  I  had  no 
desire  for  the  drink.  I  had  an  idea  that  my  religion  had  driven 
all  that  out  of  me.  The  grace  of  God  had  taken  away  the 
appetite  for  drink,  and  the  love  of  Jesus  had  taken  away  the 
love  of  it.  I  thought  myself  perfectly  safe.  I  was  invited 
out  to  dinner.  If  the  gentleman  had  asked  me  to  take  a  glass 
of  wine,  it  would  have  been  '  no,'  or  a  glass  of  ale,  '  no  ; '  but 
he  gave  me  some  rich  English  plum-pudding  pretty  well  satu- 
rated with  brandy,  and  with  brandy  sauce  over  it.  I  thought 
nothing  of  it.  I  liked  it.  I  ate  it  freely.  I  sent  up  my  plate  for 
a  second  helping.  On  returning  to  my  study  I  began  to  want 
drink.  I  wanted  it.  The  want  began  to  sting  and  burn  me. 
My  mouth  became  dry,  my  nerves  twitched,  I  wanted  it. 
Well,  surely,  if  I  go  now  and  have  some, —  I  have  not  had 
any  for  six  years, —  certainly  if  I  take  just  one  glass  now,  it 
will  allay  this  sort  of  feeling  and  I  shall  be  able  to  attend  to 


356  A  TERRIBLE   STRUGGLE. 

my  studies.  No !  I  thought  of  what  I  had  been,  and  what  I 
expected  to  be  ;  and  '  now,'  I  said,  4 1  will  fight  it.'  I  locked 
the  door  and  threw  the  key  away.  Then  commenced  the 
fight.  What  I  did  that  night  I  do  not  know.  I  know  I  was 
on  my  knees  a  good  deal  of  the  time,  but  ivJiat  I  did  I  do  not 
know.  Some  one  came  in  the  morning  about  eight  o'clock. 
and  knocked  at  the  door.  4  Come  in.'  4  The  door  is  locked.' 
I  hunted  about,  found  the  key,  and  opened  the  door.  Two 
of  my  fellow-students  entered.  4  Why,'  said  one, '  what  is  the 
matter  with  you  ? '  '  What  do  you  mean  ?  '  '  Why,  look  at 
your  face.'  They  took  me  to  the  glass,  and  my  face  I  saw 
was  covered  with  blood.  In  the  agony  of  wrestling  with  my 
appetite  for  drink,  I  had  torn  the  skin  from  my  forehead 
with  my  nails,  Look  at  the  scars  now.  My  appetite  cried 
through  every  nerve  and  fibre  of  my  system.  Thank  God,  I 
fought  it ;  but  it  was  forty-eight  hours  before  I  dared  to  gc 
upon  the  street." 

Oh,  it  is  an  awful  fight,  an  awful  fight !  It  makes  a  man 
old  before  his  time,  it  sometimes  sears  and  marks  him,  and 
leaves  scars  which  will  never  be  effaced.  Young  men,  under- 
stand that  it  is  a  hard  fight  to  break  this  appetite  when  it  fas- 
tens itself  upon  you.  And,  moderate  drinker,  respectable 
moderate  drinker,  are  you  not  willing  to  give  up  that  which 
may  be  to  you  a  lawful  gratification,  if,  by  giving  it  up,  you 
may  be  so  dignified  as  to  stoop  to  the  weakness  of  a  poor  un- 
fortunate brother,  and  help  him  ?  This  is  what  we  seek  to  do 
in  our  movement,  not  only  to  prevent,  but  to  cure ;  and  by 
God's  help  we  shall  persevere.  Discouragements  meet  uss 
fears  assail  us,  enemies  attack  us,  and  even  friends  fail  us  ;  we 
will  not  fear.  Though  a  host  encamp  against  us,  of  this  we 
will  be  confident,  "  work  done  for  God,  it  dieth  not;"  and 
though  we  may  grope  at  times  in  the  dark,  yet,  thank  God, 
light  from  the  mountain-top  sends  forth  the  sharp  outline  of 


ONWARD,  UPWARD,  VICTORY.  357 

shadows  upon  our  path,  that  tell  us  day  is  breaking,  a  day  of 
triumph,  a  day  in  which  the  bonds  shall  be  loosed,  a  day  in 
which  the  oppressed  shall  go  free,  a  day  in  which  there  shall 
be  a  jubilee,  when  every  drunkard  shall  be  redeemed  from 
the  dominion  of  drink,  and  the  sigh  of  the  last  weeping  wife 
be  hushed,  and  the  last  little  child  be  led  into  the  path  of 
peace  and  safety. 

That  day  is  to  come,  but  we  are  now  in  the  midst  of  con- 
flict. Yet  in  our  warfare  no  blood  is  shed,  we  mean  no  harm 
to  anyone.  "The  weapons  of  our  warfare  are  not  carnal, 
but  mighty  through  God  to  the  pulling  down  "  of  the  strong 
fortresses  of  drunkenness.  We  are  engaged  in  a  bloodless, 
peaceful  conflict,  and  shall  continue  to  be  so  to  the  end.  We 
say  as  the  little  drummer  did  when  taken  prisoner  and  led  into 
the  camp  of  the  enemy.  They  told  him  to  beat  the  drum. 
"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  I  will  beat  the  drum  for  you,  though  you  ask 
me  to  do  it  in  insult,"  and  he  beat  a  reveille.  "  Now,"  said 
they,  "beat  an  advance,"  and  he  did  so.  " Now  beat  a  charge," 
and  he  beat  the  charge.  "  Now  beat  a  retreat."  "  No,"  said 
the  little  fellow,  "  I  never  learned  to  beat  a  retreat."  We 
have  no  such  word  as  retreat  in  our  vocabulary,  it  is  all 
onward,  upward,  victory ! 


CHAPTER   XVII. 


WHO     ARE    RESPONSIBLE?  —  WAIFS     AND     STRAYS     OF    CITY 
STREETS  —  LIFE  IN  RAGGED  HOM*ES  —  HOMELESS  CHILDREN. 

Boys  of  the  Street  —  Danger  of  Chaffing  Them  —  Can  They  Be  Rescued? — 
A  Scene  I  Once  Witnessed  —  Training-Schools  of  Crime  — Life  Below  the 
Surface  —  A  City  Slum  —  Dens  of  Iniquity  and  Vice  —  Filth  and  Squalor 
on  Every  Side  —  Herding  Together  Like  Animals  —  My  New  Pair  of 
Boots  —  Trying  Them  to  See  How  They  Fit  —  I  Am  Assailed  by  Swarms 
of  Boys  —  "  Boots  !  Boots  !" —Pelted  with  Potatoes  and  Carrots  — My 
Ignominious  Flight  —  The  Boys  and  the  Pumpkin  Seeds  —  An  Anxious 
Farmer  —  An  Extraordinary  Story  of  Crime  —  Appalling  Facts  —  An 
Affecting  Story  of  Hospital  Life  — Two  Little  Invalids  —  One  Crushed,  the 
Other  Starved  —  "  Bobby,  Did  You  Never  Hear  of  Jesus  ?"  —  Propping  Up 
the  Sick  Boy's  Arm  —  Dead  ;  His  Little  Hand  Held  Up  for  Jesus  —  A 
Street  Scene  in  London  —  The  Claims  of  Humanity  —  The  Burning 
Ship  —  A  Noble  Act  —  True  Heroism. 


T  is  not  of  the  heathenism  of 
foreign    lands,   but   of    the 
heathenism  in  Christendom; 
not  of  the  worship  of  idols 
in  distant  climes,  but  of  the 
worship   of    Bacchus    in    a 
Christian    country ;    not   of 
the  victims   of  Juggernaut,  but  of 
the  victims  of  the  drink  among  us, 
that  we  are  treating.     And  it  is  a 
serious  question.    It  affects  all  classes 
of  society,  and  therefore  all  have  an 

interest  in  the  matter.  Perhaps  it  will  be  quite  as  well  to  be 
as  practical  as  possible,  and  to  speak  of  the  responsibilities 
of  society.  Who  is  responsible  for  all  this  terrible  evil  and 
suffering  ? 

358 


MICROSCOPIC  SIGHT. 


359 


Many  say,  "  The  drunkard  is  responsible ;  upon  him  pour 
out  the  vials  of  your  wrath."  Speak  as  you  choose  about  the 
drunkard,  —  speak  of  him,  if  you  will,  as  a  beast,  as  an  out- 
cast,—  but  that  is  not  my  forte.  Let  us  for  a  moment  con- 
sider the  influences  that  are  brought  to  bear  upon  men  ;  let 
us  consider  the  circumstances.  We  will  visit,  if  you  please, 
the  boys  of  the  street.  How  keen  and  sharp  they  are.  If 
you  undertake  to  "chaff"  one 
of  them,  in  nine  cases  out  of 
ten  you  will  get  the  worst  of  it ; 
they  are  so  sharp  and  quick  in 
retort.  On  one  occasion,  a  very 
stout  man  —  as  the  Frenchman 
said,  "Vary  moch  developed" 
-  was  walking  through  the 
streets,  when  one  of  these  little 
fellows  stood  before  him,  and  he 
said,  "Boy,  don't  you  see  me?" 
"  Yes,  sir,  I  can  see  you  with  the 
naked  hye."  "Well,"  said  he, 
"get  out  of  my  way."  "Which 
vay  round,  guv'nor?"  the  boy 
retorted.  They  are  quick,  sharp, 
keen,  and  wonderfully  astute. 
In  banter,  sarcasm,  and  bold  repartee,  your  boy  is  a  fool  to 
them.  What  if  all  these  sharp  intellects,  this  acuteness,  this 
strange  intelligence,  were  trained  for  humanity,  for  God,  for 
Christ,  and  heaven,  instead  of  being  trained  to  prey  on  society, 
for  crime,  for  Satan,  and  perdition  ? 

Do  we  not  make  a  fearful  mistake,  as  Christians,  if  we  do 
nothing  for  their  rescue?  and  shall  we  not  pay  a  terrible 
price  for  our  neglect? 

Come  with  me,  and  I  will  show  you  a  scene  I  once  wit- 


I  CAN  SEE  YOU  WITH  THE 
NAKED  HYE." 


360 


LIFE   IN   CITY   STREETS. 


nessed.  Come  from  your  pleasant  home,  where  children 
trained  for  purity  and  heaven  climb  upon  your  knee.  Come 
from  your 
family  altar. 
Come  from 
the  comforts 
and  luxuries 
that  God  has 
given  you,  and 
see  where 
these  children 
live.  Turnout 
of  this  mag- 
nificent street 
of  palaces,  and 
look  at  a  new 
world.  Every 
grade  of  exist- 
ence, as  you 
advance,  be- 
comes darker, 
filthier,  fouler, 
and  more  de- 
graded. Sick- 
ening odors,  heavy  with  dis- 
ease, come  from  open  cellars ; 
oaths  ring  out  from  subterranean 
dens.  Here,  thronging  the  filthy 
sidewalks,  are  children  with  no 

sunshine  in  their  faces,  children  who  are  a  walking  heap  of 
rags,  children  who  often  hear  a  mother  swear,  but  have  never 
heard  her  pray;  children  who  will  occupy  prisons,  peniten- 
tiaries, poor-houses,  or  worse.  Can  they  be  rescued  ?  Here 


A   TRAINING-SCHOOL   OF   CRIME. 


DENS   OF   INIQUITY  AND   VICE. 

they  are,  bad,  precocious.  Here  they  live.  This  broken  door 
hangs  by  a  single  hinge.  No  fear  of  burglars  here.  Enter !  Is 
this  a  cage  of  wild  animals  ?  No,  these  are  men  and  women  and 
children,  not  beasts  and  their  cubs.  Every  square  foot  of  the 
filthy  floor  has  some  occupant,  —  the  wretched,  in  rags ;  the 
drunken,  in  their  debauches  ;  gray  hair  and  auburn  locks;  old 
and  young;  black  and  white ;  the  sick  and  suffering;  the  inno- 
cent and  guilty,  —  all  herding  together.  Here  the  robber  brings 
his  plunder,  the  beggar  his  refuse  food ;  here,  too,  the  shame- 
less girl  —  God  help  her  — brings  her  horrible  earnings.  Here 
they  sleep  and  grovel.  Here  they  drug  conscience  with  poi- 
soned liquors.  Here  they  spend  their  lives,  and  here,  in  the 
dark,  many  die.  Such  scenes  are  to  be  witnessed  in  nearly  every 
large  city  to-day,  within  sound  of  the  church  bells.  Oh,  they  are 
a  hard  set !  They  drink,  and  swear,  and  lie,  and  resist  control. 
True,  their  sins  of  commission  are  awful ;  but  what  of  our 
sins  of  omission  ?  As  we  gaze  with  horror  upon  these  human 
beings,  and  shudder  at  their  degradation,  must  not  some 
of  us  say,  "  I  am  verily  guilty  concerning  my  brother?  "  Do 
you  wish  to  repair  this  blunder  of  indifference  and  neglect? 
Read  the  reports  of  Homes  of  Industry,  Homes  for  the 
Friendless,  Homes  for  the  Magdalens,  Night  Refuges  for  the 
Destitute,  Newsboys'  Lodging-Houses,  and  kindred  enterprises 
of  benevolence.  Then  see  what  is  being  accomplished  in  the 
Mission  Schools,  and  like  institutions.  But  we  want  some- 
thing more  than  mere  institutions.  Let  the  rich  men,  out 
of  their  abundance,  invest  in  clean,  well-ordered,  and  cheap 
lodging-houses ;  open  parks,  where  the  poor  can  have  the 
liberty  of  the  rich.  Provide  for  them  cheap  and  wholesome 
recreations,  pleasure  excursions,  and  the  like.  I  believe  we 
make  a  fearful  mistake  when  we  neglect  these  little  ones, 
these  children  who  are  to  form  part  of  the  future  population 
of  this  great  country.  One  of  the  most  interesting,  as  well 


362      A  LEAF  FKOM  MY  LONDON  EXPERIENCE. 

as  one  of  the  most  benevolent,  enterprises,  is  that  of  sending 
poor  city  children  on  excursions  into  the  country.  One  or 
two  leading  newspapers  of  New  York  city,  and  the  Five 
Points  Mission,  have  done  grand  work  in  this  direction. 

Now  let  us  go  into  the  streets  and  see  one  and  another  of 
these  "old"  children.  Hard  life  makes  them  prematurely 
old  and  precocious.  I  know  they  are  impudent.  To  be 
sure  they  are,  and  so  would  you  be  in  their  case.  Impu- 
dent !  Why,  I  remember  when  I  was  in  London  many  years 
ago,  I  bought  a  pair  of  boots,  —  those  waterproof  boots  that 
buckle  up  to  the  belt ;  and  I  said  to  my  wife,  "  Now  before  I 
pack  these  boots,  I  will  try  them  011  and  see  how  they  fit." 
I  ran  out  into  Drury  Lane  and  White  Hart  Street,  and  into 
Bedford  Street  (I  was  stopping  in  Norfolk  Street  then).  I 
went  up  Drury  Lane  all  right,  but  when  I  passed  into  White 
Hart  Street  I  heard  the  cry  of  "  Boots !  Boots  !  "  And  soon 
from  every  window,  doorway,  and  alley  seemed  to  come  the 
cry  of  "  Boots !  Boots ! "  So  I  began  to  quicken  my  steps, 
and  I  heard  the  youngsters  quickening  theirs  after  me.  Soon 
they  swarmed  on  every  side  of  me.  I  ran,  they  ran.  They 
pelted  me  with  potatoes  and  carrots.  When  I  reached  Bed- 
ford Street,  puffing  for  breath  after  my  sharp  run,  I  heard 
the  cry  of  "Boots!  Boots!"  with  merry  laughter,  dying 
away  in  the  distance.  They  are  an  awfully  bad  set  of  boys! 
I  know  they  are. 

Now  unless  "  society  "  interposes  to  prevent  the  degrada- 
tion of  this  class  of  the  community,  it  must  pay  the  price  of 
its  neglect.  This  is  inevitable.  We  set  down  certain  rows 
of  figures  under  each  other,  and  then  we  are  startled  because, 
when  we  add  them  up,  they  amount  to  such  a  large  total. 
But  figures  do  not  lie.  When  we  put  seed  into  the  ground 
we  may  lay  our  solemn  injunction  upon  it  that  it  shall  not 
germinate,  but  it  will  grow  and  bring  forth  fruit  after  its 


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A  NEW  WAY  TO  PLANT  PUMPKIN  SEEDS. 


365 


kind.     Seed  will  germinate.     A  farmer  set  two  boys  plant- 
ing pumpkin  seeds.     "Now,  boys,  put  all  these  seeds  in  the 

ground  between  the  rows 
of    corn,   and   then   you 
may  go  fishing."     At  it 
they  went.     But  it  was 
slow  work,  and  the  seeds 
were  many.  Three  o'clock 
came,    and   almost   four, 
and   there   were   lots   of 
seeds  yet  to  plant.     The 
youngest   said :    "  If    we 
stop   to   plant   all   these 
seeds,  we  shall  have  no  fishing.     Let 's 
put  'em  under  this  rock."    "  Agreed." 
So,  raising  the  heavy  stone,  they  de- 
posited the  seeds,  and  went   fishing, 
farmer    said, 


A  NAUGHTY  PAIE. 


At    night,    the 

"Boys,   did  you  put  all   them 

pumpkin  seeds  in  the  ground?" 

"  Oh,    yes."      Time    went    on, 

and  the  farmer  discovered  that 

on  a  certain  part  of  the  ground 

the    pumpkins    did    not    grow. 

They  were  coming  up  all  right 

between   the   rows  of  corn  up 

to    this   point   but   no    further. 

"  Boys,  are  you  sure  you  put  all 

them    pumpkin    seeds    in    the 

ground?"      "Yes."     Time  still 

went   on.     No    pumpkins  on   a 

part  of  the  field !      At  last  the  farmer    discovered   a   large 

cluster  of  vines  climbing  and  stretching  in  luxuriance  over  a 


A   DISCOVERY. 


366  A  MOTHER  OF  CRIMINALS. 

large  rock,  and,  on  lifting  it  up,  the  truth  stood  revealed  that 
the  seed  had  been  hidden  under  the  rock. 

Let  me  give  you  one  fact.  Mr.  Dugdale,  of  the  New 
York  Prison  Association  has  investigated  the  whole  matter. 
Over  a  hundred  years  ago,  a  little  neglected  waif  and  her 
three  sisters  were  floating  about  the  villages  and  towns  on 
the  Hudson  River.  For  a  few  dollars  they  might  have  been 
provided  with  some  instruction,  and  have  been  placed  in  a 
respectable  farmer's  family,  and  have  grown  up  —  as  many 
similarly  cared  for  have  done  — and  been  mothers  of  honest 
men  and  virtuous  women.  But  Margaret  was  left  to  grow 
up  in  the  lanes  and  roads,  sometimes  fed,  sometimes  hungry ; 
in  the  winter  in  the  poor-house,  in  the  summer  a  tramp, 
sleeping  in  the  fields.  Fifty  dollars  would  have  saved  that 
girl.  But  she  fell  naturally  into  vicious  courses.  What  do 
you  expect  of  children  thus  brought  up?  Do  you  expect 
these  girls  to  become  as  pure  and  sweet  and  lovely  as  your 
children  who  go  to  school  every  day  and  to  Sunday-school  every 
week  ?  That  girl  fell  into  bad  habits,  and  her  son  became  the 
progenitor  of  a  distinctive  criminal  line.  As  the  children  of 
Margaret  and  her  sisters  grew  up,  they  shifted  to  the  poor- 
house,  to  vagrancy,  and  to  crime.  Some  were  petty  thieves ; 
others  were  bolder  criminals ;  some  were  tramps ;  and 
others  were  even  worse.  Again  the  line  extended,  and 
the  criminal  qualities  became  intensified.  Many  became 
drunkards,  lunatics,  or  idiots.  And  now  the  descendants 
number  over  1,000,  of  whom  140  were  convicted  criminals, 
and  have  spent  in  the  aggregate  over  140  years  in  prison. 
Margaret's  descendants  alone  spent  over  seventy-five  years 
in  prison,  averaging  over  one  year  each.  Now  reckon  the 
crop  if  you  can.  Count  the  cost,  to  the  country,  of  this 
pauperism  and  crime ;  the  loss  of  property,  the  prison  ex- 
penses, the  moral  taint  reaching  far  beyond  the  control  of 


A  REMARKABLE  STORY   OF  CRIME. 

society;  and,  tell  me,  Is  not  society  responsible  in  a  great 
degree  for  the  crime,  degradation,  and  drunkenness,  that 
curse  the  country?  Oh,  for  some  moral  Hercules  to  strangle 
these  serpents  of  vice  that  are  enfolding  and  destroying  so 
many  all  around  us.* 

But  to  return  for  a  moment  or  two  to  the  children.  Did 
you  ever  talk  to  them?  "  Oh,  yes!  I  have  talked  to  them. 
They  are  very  saucy."  How  did  you  talk  to  them?  You 
take  a  boy  well  dressed,  with  a  little  white  collar  on,  and  his 
hair  nicely  combed,  giving  evidence  of  a  mother's  care ;  by 
his  side  stands  a  ragged  boy,  toes  out  of  his  shoes,  elbows  out 
of  his  jacket,  hair  uncombed  and  sticking  out  of  his  cap ;  yet 
the  latter  is  just  as  good-looking  a  boy  as  the  other.  Now, 
you  talk  to  them !  You  do  not  talk  to  them  in  the  same 
tone  of  voice.  You  will  talk  to  the  rough  boy  roughly,  and 
to  the  smooth  bo}^  smoothly.  You  say  to  the  nicely-dressed 
boy,  "  Well,  my  little  man,  I  hope  you  like  your  school,  and 


*  In  addition  to  the  facts  given  above,  Mr.  Dugdale,  in  a  little  book  entitled 
the  "  Jukes,"  gives  some  startling  statistics  and  estimates  in  regard  to  the  pos- 
terity of  Margaret  and  her  sister,  which  he  calls  by  a  fictitious  name,  the 
''Jukes  "  family. 

The  Jukes  grew  so  numerous  and  so  depraved  that  the  name  of  their  family 
became  a  term  of  reproach.  A  few  items  in  Mr.  Dugdale's  estimates  are  here 
given  of  the  cost  of  the  Jukes  family  to  the  community  at  large. 

Number  of  pauperized  adults 280 

Number  of  arrests  and  trials 250 

Number  of  criminals  and  offenders 140 

Number  of  years  depredations  of  60  thieves,  at  12  years  each      .        .        .    720 

Number  of  lives  sacrificed  by  murder 7 

Cost  of  maintenance  of  paupers §47,250 

Cost  of  maintenance  of  prisoners 28,000 

Cost  of  depredation  of  thieves 86,400 

And  so  he  goes  on  reckoning  up  the  various  items  of  expense  from  disease  and 
pauperism  and  crime  and  waste  of  life  and  vice  of  various  kinds,  till  he  reaches  a 
sum  total  and  exclaims  — 

"  Over  a  million  and  a  quarter  of  dollars  of  loss  in  75  years,  caused  by  a  single 
family  1,200  strong,  without  reckoning  the  cash  paid  for  whiskey,  or  taking  into 
account  the  entailment  of  pauperism  and  crime  on  the  survivors  in  successive 
generations,  and  the  incurable  disease,  idiocy,  and  insanity  growing  out  of  this 
debauchery,  and  reaching  farther  than  we  can  calculate." 


368  TALKING  TO  A  SUIT  OF  CLOTHES. 

learn  your  lessons,  like  a  good  little  boy."  To  the  other  you 
say,  in  a  rough,  sharp  tone,  "  Who  do  you  belong  to?  What 
are  you  doing  here  ?  Eh ! "  Take  these  boys  and  change 
their  appearance.  Put  the  good  clothes  on  this  boy,  and 
wash  him  and  make  him  clean,  and  clothe  the  other  in  rags, 
and  you  speak  to  him  as  roughly  as  you  did  to  the  other. 
You  do  not  talk  to  the  boy,  you  talk  to  the  clothes.  You 
forget  that  under  rags  and  dirt  may  beat  a  heart  full  of 
human  sympathy  and  with  a  longing  for  human  love.  You 
forget  what  makes  these  boys  what  they  are.  On  your  way 
to  the  Sunday-school  with  your  boy,  as  you  pass  the  corner 
of  the  street,  you  may  see  boys  collected,  pitching  coppers  on 
Sunday  morning,  boys  who  will  swear,  lie,  and  steal;  you  are 
thankful  your  boy  is  not  like  these.  What  made  him  differ- 
ent from  them?  Nothing  but  his  education  and  training. 
You  may  place  the  three-year-old  boy  of  the  best  family  in 
the  land  in  the  hands  of  some  horrible  hag,  and  let  her  train 
him,  and  he  will  swear,  lie,  thieve,  and  pitch  coppers  on 
Sunday,  just  the  same  as  those  of  whom  I  have  been  speak- 
ing. Education  and  training  make  your  boy  what  he  is; 
education  and  training  make  these  other  boys  what  they  are : 
but  the  difference  in  the  education  and  training  of  your  boy 
and  those  boys  is  as  wide  as  the  difference  between  heaven 
and  hell.  "Oh,"  you  say,  "it  is  no  use  doing  anything  for 
them,  they  are  such  impudent  children,  they  are  such  a  rude 
set."  Ah,  my  friends,  we  know  better.  I  have  been  more 
cheered  by  results  of  work  among  children  than  I  have 
among  adults,  over  and  over  again.  I  could  give  you  fact 
after  fact.  Let  me  give  you  one.  A  poor  little  fellow 
was  picked  up  in  the  street,  with  both  thighs  crushed  by  a 
dray.  He  was  carried  to  a  hospital.  By  his  side  was  tem- 
porarily placed,  from  the  same  slum,  a  little  fellow  who  was 
very  ill  with  the  famine  fever,  a  disease  caused  by  hunger 


A  STORY  OF  HOSPITAL  LIFE.  359 

and  bad  air.     He  lay  side  by  side  with  this  broken-legged 
little  boy.     Creeping  up  to  him  he  said,  "  Bobby,  did  you 
never  hear  of  Jesus  ?  " 
•  "No,  I  never  'eard  o'  him." 

"  Bobby,  I  went  to  the  Mission  School  once,  and  they 
told  me  that  Jesus  would  take  you  to  heaven  when  you  die, 
and  you  would  n't  never  be  hungry  no  more,  if  you  'd  ax 
him." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  no  sich  great  big  gentleman  as  he  is ; 
and  if  I  did,  he  would  n't  speak  to  a  poor  boy  like  me." 

"In  the  Mission  School  they  told  me  he  would.  Don't 
you  want  never  to  be  hungry  no  more?" 

"  Oh,  just  don't  I  ?  " 

"  Then  you  ax  him." 

"How  could  I  ax  the  gentleman  if  I  don't  know 
where  he  lives?  and  if  I  did  know,  my  leg  is  broke,  and  I 
could  n't  go." 

"Bobby,  they  told  me  in  the  Mission  School  that  Jesus 
passes  by,  and  we  sunged  about  Jesus  passing  by,  and  teacher 
told  us  it  means  he  comes  round.  How  do  you  know  he 
bean't  coining  round  this  'ere  hospital  to-night  ?  And  if  he 
should,  and  you  was  watching  for  him,  you  could  see  him, 
and  then  you  could  ax  him." 

"  I  could  n't  watch  for  him,  my  legs  ache  so  awful ;  and  I 
could  n't  keep  my  eyes  open." 

"  But  I  say,  Bobby,  you  can  hold  your  hand  up,  and  if  he 
should  come  round  and  see  your  hand  up,  he  'd  know  you  wos 
arter  something."  He  held  his  hand  up,  but  it  dropped. 
He  held  it  up  again,  and  it  dropped.  He  held  it  up  the  third 
time,  and  as  it  dropped  he  burst  out  crying,  and  said,  "  I  '11 
give  it  up,  I  can't  hold  my  hand  up  no  longer." 

"  Bobby,  I  don't  want  my  pillow.  You  let  me  prop  your 
elbow  up  with  it." 

23 


370 


MAKING  ALLOWANCES  FOR  CIRCUMSTANCES. 


And  the  child  —  whom,  perhaps,  you  would  sweep  off  your 
doorstep,  or  turn  away  from  with  disgust  —  took  his  own  hos- 
pital pillow,  and,  placing  it  under  the  elbow  of  his  sick  com- 
panion, propped  up  his  arm.  In  the  morning  the  little  fellow 
lay  dead,  with  his  hand  held  up  for  Jesus.  You  may  search 
the  world  over,  and  you  cannot  find  a  grander  illustration  of 
faith,  trust,  and  confidence  than  was  manifested  in  that  little 
fellow  who  had  been  in  the  Mission 
School  but  once.  Now,  then,  in  judging 
these  little  creatures,  let  us  make  allow- 
ances, and  try  to  help  them. 
What  do  we  know  of 
the  circumstances  when  we 
talk  of  intemperate  people? 
How  irritating  they 
are  !  They  will 
drink !  Mark,  I 
am  not  palliating 
or  excusing  the 
sin  of  drunkenness. 
But  I  tell  you  we 
condemn  drunken- 
ness among  what 
we  call  the  lower 
classes,  and  dare  not  say  anything  about  the  evil  among  the 
aristocracy.  It  is  just  as  degrading  for  a  nobleman  to  get 
drunk  as  it  is  for  a  costermonger.  Still,  what  do  we  know 
of  the  circumstances  of  the  case  ?  What  do  we  know  of  the 
history  of  the  man  ? 

I  was  once  walking  in  one  of  the  parks  of  London,  and 
inside  the  rails  lay  a  girl  asleep,  perhaps  drunk,  I  did  not 
know  which.  She  was  ragged  and  slip-shod,  resting  her 
head  on  one  hand,  and  the  other  lay  listlessly  by  her  side.  I 


ADVERSITY. 


LIFE'S   CONTRASTS. 


373 


looked  at  her,  and  thought  what  a  contrast  to  that  beautiful 
woman  within  a  few  feet  of  her,  reclining  in  her  carriage,  with  a 
footman  to  do  her  bidding,  clothed  in  rich  apparel,  and  faring 
sumptuously  every  day  !  And  yet,  according  to  the  Scripture, 
is  not  the  Lord  God  the  Maker  of  them  both  ?  Is  not  this 
girl's  hand  as  delicately 
formed  and  as  curiously 
constructed  as  the  hand 
that  lies  on  the  velvet  cu 
ion,  sparkling  with  gems? 
not  life  as  great  a  mystery 
one  as  in  the  other?  Is  i 
immortality  as  great  a 
boon  ?  We  look  with 
admiration  on  one, 
bow  to  her  with  re- 
spect; we  hold  our 
garments  as  we  come 
near  the  other,  and 
thank  God  we  are  not 
like  her.  Do  we  know  anything 
of  the  circumstances  that  may  have 
brought  that  poor  girl  here  ? 

I  believe  in  humanity,  and  its  claims  upon  us.  We  call 
men  heroes  who  do  great  deeds ;  and  they  are  heroes.  We 
admire  heroes.  We  glory  in  heroism.  A  large  ship,  carry- 
ing some  four  hundred  sailors  and  soldiers,  with  their  offi- 
cers, besides  women  and  children,  took  fire  in  mid-ocean. 
When  all  hopes  of  saving  the  ship  were  given  up,  the  boats 
were  examined,  to  ascertain  how  many  could  be  saved.  Only 
one  hundred  and  twenty  men,  with  their  quota  of  officers, 
besides  women  and  children,  could  be  taken  in.  Then  they 
drew  lots;  and  as  each  man  drew  the  lot  that  doomed 


PHOSPEKITY. 


374  AN  OCEAN  HORROR. 

him  to  stay  by  the  burning  ship,  with  face  a  shade  paler  and 
lip  quivering  he  took  his  stand  amidships,  till  two  hun- 
dred and  eighty  doomed  men  stood  together.  Then  they 
placed  the  women  and  children  in  the  boats,  and  the 
men  were  employed  in  passing  provisions  and  water  to  their 
more  fortunate  comrades.  One  sailor,  with  tears  in  his  eyes 
(and  they  were  manly  tears),  leaning  over  the  bulwarks,  said, 
"I  say,  shipmate,  if  you  get  ashore  I  wish  that  you  would 
see  that  my  wife  gets  my  back  pay.  God  bless  her,  she 
will  need  it  badly;  she  and  the  little  ones.  Good-by." 
Another  said,  "Do  you  think  you  can  catch  this  'ere, 
if  I  chuck  it  to  you?  It  is  the  Bible  my  mother  gave 
me  when  I  left  home.  If  you  get  ashore,  tell  her  I  have 
found  out  how  a  fellow  feels  when  the  angels  rejoice  because 
he  has  changed  his  tack.  God  bless  her ! " 

When  all  but  the  officers  had  passed  over  the  side,  one 
young  lieutenant,  clasping  his  hands,  dropped  upon  the  deck, 
crying  out,  "  Oh,  my  wife  and  my  children ! "  A  brother  officer 
lifted  him  on  his  feet.  "  My  brother,  we  have  fought  together, 
messed  together,  camped  together,  prayed  together ;  we  love 
each  other,  you  and  I.  You  have  a  lovely  wife  and  two  sweet, 
children.  I  have  seen  them  in  your  own  happy  home.  I  have 
none.  I  am  a  bachelor.  I  have  neither  father  nor  mother,, 
brother,  sister,  wife,  child,  kith,  nor  kin.  No  heart  would 
leap  at  my  coming,  and  no  eye  be  dim  should  I  never  return, 
I  shall  take  your  place  on  the  deck,  and  put  you  in  the  boat." 
"  No !  no !  no !  "  "  Yes,  my  brother,  yes ;  think  of  the  children 
that  will  clamber  on  your  knee :  only  tell  them  I  did  it." 
"  No  !  no  !  oh,  no  !  "  "  It  is  but  the  chance  of  a  lot,  my 
brother ;  it  might  have  been  you,  and  it  shall  be  me.  You 
shall  go  into  the  boat."  He  threw  him  in,  —  the  last  officer 
to  leave  the  ship.  "It  is  all  right.  Cast  off!"  There  he 
stood,  with  folded  arms,  till  the  boats  had  rowed  to  a  safe  dis- 


TKUE  HEROISM. 


375 


tance,  and  then  the  oarsmen  rested  011  their  oars.     Here  stood 
the  two  hundred  and  eighty  men,  with  the  noble  officer  in 

their    midst,   waving    adieus    to 
those  in  the  boats,  until  the  fire 


DOOMED. — THE   BURNING   SHIP   IN   MID-OCEAN. 

reached  the  magazine,  when,  with  a  terrible  explosion,  they 
were  blown  into  eternity.  That  is  TRUE  HEROISM.  And 
just  in  proportion  as  you  stoop,  —  ah,  yes,  and  you  are  digni- 


376  SYMPATHY  FOR  THE   UNFORTUNATE. 

fied  when  you  do  so  stoop  to  the  weakness  of  your  fellow- 
creatures,  for  the  purpose  of  helping*  them  up,  — just  so  near 
do  you  approach  to  heroism ;  doing  or  enduring  for  the  sake 
of  others.  And  I  tell  you  that  those  men  and  women  who, 
by  the  circumstances  of  their  lives,  and  by  the  influences  of 
society,  are  led  into  temptation,  and  through  human  weak- 
nesses are  drawn  into  sin  and  suffering,  demand  your  sympa- 
thy and  your  help,  to  lift  them  up. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 


NOW  AND  THEN;  OR,  PAST,  PRESENT,  AND  FUTURE — PER- 
SONAL EXPERIENCES   AND   REMINISCENCES. 

Past,  Present,  and  Future  —  What  We  Owe  to  the  Past  —  Our  First 
Century  —  One  Hundred  Years  Ago  —  A  Bundle  of  Stamps  —  Exciting 
Times  —  A  Memorable  Snow-ball  Fight  —  Discovering  Tea  in  Her  Hus- 
band's Shoes  —  "  Disperse,  Ye  Rebels  "— Determined  Patriots  —  "  Who 
Is  That  Person  ?  "  —  "  Will  He  Fight  ?  "  —  Anthony  Burns,  the  Fugitive 
Slave  —  How  He  Was  Marched  Through  the  Streets  of  Boston  —  Wonder- 
ful Progress  —  Fifty  Years  Ago  —  Grand  Achievements  —  How  We 
Printed  When  I  Was  a  Boy  —  The  Light  of  Other  Days  —  Travelling  in 
the  Olden  Time  —  Personal  Experiences  —  Three  Miles  an  Hour — "I 
Must  Take  a  Pill"  —My  Ride  on  the  First  Railroad  Built  in  America  — 
The  Electric  Telegraph  —  Reminiscences  of  My  Boyhood  —  The  Tele- 
phone —  The  "  Fire  Cart "  —  An  Old  Couple's  Idea  of  Telegraphing  —  A 
Negro's  Description  —  The  "  Puir  Whales  "  —  Jonathan  Hulls  —"I'm  the 
Nineteenth  Century." 

OW  and  then  "  is  a  term  often 
used   to   signify   "occasion- 
ally," "once  in  a  while,"  etc., 
but  there  are  thoughts,  per- 
haps,  worthy   of  utterance, 
suggested  by  its  higher  and 
broader  significance,  as  we 
stand  in  the  "  now  "  that  is,  and  con- 
template the  "then"  that  was,  and 
look  into  the  future   that   will   be. 
So  that  I  might  announce,  Thoughts 
on  the  Past,  Present,  and  Future. 

To-day  we  reap  the  fruit  of  the  workers  of  the  past,  and 
in  the  by-and-by  another  generation  shall  garner  the  harvest 
.sown  by  the  workers  of  to-day.  To-day  we  can  reckon  our 
gains  from  the  past,  and  it  is  well  to  acknowledge  the  debt. 

377 


378  HOW  THE  KEVOLUTIOX  WAS  BEGUN. 

As  a  nation  we  have  celebrated  the  events  of  one  hundred 
years  ago,  and  commemorated  the  birthday  of  our  nation,  — 
a  prosperous  republic,  that  has  been  solving  the  problem  of 
government  by  the  people  for  a  century,  —  and  now  shall  we 
not  call  up  the  past,  the  far-off  "  then,"  and  refresh  our  minds 
by  a  brief  review  of  the  scenes  fraught  with  such  mighty  re- 
sults to  us  to-day? 

One  hundred  years  ago  the  people  of  the  good  city  of 
Boston  were  in  great  perplexity  about  a  bundle  of  paper,  — 
where  to  put  it,  what  to  do  with  it.  They  could  not  receive 
it,  for  that  would  be  to  admit  the  right  of  Great  Britain  to 
tax  them.  Then  came  burnings  in  effigy,  processions,  meet- 
ings, and  preparations  for  a  struggle,  till  the  stamp  act  was 
repealed.  But  that  stamped  paper  carried  more  value  than 
all  the  notes  of  the  banks. 

Then  came  more  oppression,  and  the  citizens  pledged 
themselves  not  to  import  or  use  more  British  goods.  Recre- 
ant merchants  were  watched,  and  British  soldiers  were  sent 
into  the  streets  to  disperse  assemblies  of  the  people. 

One  February  day,  in  1770,  some  boys  were  carrying  about 
caricatures  of  merchants  who  had  imported  goods,  when  an 
informer  destroyed  the  pictures,  and  was  hooted  by  the  boys. 
He  seized  a  gun,  and  threatened  them,  to  which  they  re- 
plied by  snowballs.  He  fired,  and  killed  a  boy ;  the  first  per- 
son slain  in  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution.  Men  felt  at 
the  funeral  of  that  boy  that  a  great  act  in  the  world's  history 
had  opened  over  his  grave.  Snowballs  became  significant. 
Eleven  days  after,  occurred  the  first  great  riot,  begun  by 
snowballing  a  sentinel.  The  soldiers  gathered,  more  snow- 
balls were  thrown ;  they  fired,  and  three  persons  were  killed, 
and  the  Revolution  was  begun.  Not  all  the  cannon  in  the 
Franco-Prussian  war  sent  balls  weighted  with  such  results  to 
the  world  as  those  few  snowballs  flung  in  the  streets  of  Boston 
one  hundred  years  ago. 


THE  BOSTON  TEA  PARTY. 


379 


Soon  came  the  affair  of  the  tea,  so  well  known  to 
every  American  schoolboy.  The  destruction  of  that  tea 
was  the  true  declaration  of  war  against  Great  Britain  by 
her  North  American  colonies.  Fifty  gentlemen  put  their 
necks  in  peril,  and  wives  arid  children  in  fifty  homes  in 
Boston  asked  no  questions  that  night  as  to  where  the  head 
of  the  house  had  been.  We  are  told  that  one  wife,  thinking 

her  husband's 
shoes  might  be 
damp,  brought 
his  slippers  to 
him,  took  the 
shoes  up  to'  dry 
them,  and  found 
a  quantity  of 
tea  inside.  She 
concealed  her 
consternation, 
and  asked  no 
questions  till 
the  King  of 
England  ceased 
to  hold  power 
in  the  Colonies. 

The  tea  destroyed  in  Boston  was  worth  more  to  the  world 
than  all  the  spices  of  the  East. 

It  seems  useless  to  tell  over  the  old,  well-known  tale  of 
hardship,  patriotism,  and  heroic  endurance,  that  characterized 
that  great  struggle  ;  but  it  is  so  full  of  beauty,  wonder,  pathos, 
tragedy,  and  sublimity  that  no  history  is,  or  should  be,  more 
attractive  to  Americans  than  this.  How,  when  Gage  de- 
termined to  destroy  the  military  stores  at  Concord,  young 
men,  on  fleet  horses,  knocked  at  the  house  doors,  rousing  the 


TELL-TALE    SHOES. 


380  OLD-TIME  PATRIOTISM. 

minute-men,  while  a  mysterious  light,  streaming  from  the  stee- 
ple of  one  of  the  Boston  churches,  proclaimed  that  peril  was- 
at  hand ;  and  how,  after  the  reply  by  musket-shots  to  Pitcairn's 
demand,  "  Disperse,  ye  rebels,"  the  British  troops  made  their 
way  back  through  Concord  to  Boston.  Major  Buttrick,  leap- 
ing forward,  cried  out,  "  Fire,  fellow-soldiers,  for  God's  sake, 
fire  !  "  At  noon,  that  day,  a  splendid  detachment  of  British 
soldiers  marched  gaily  out  of  Boston,  their  band  playing 
"  Yankee  Doodle,"  their  officers  boasting  that  at  the  mere 
sight  of  the  grenadiers'  caps  the  rebels  would  take  to  their 
heels;  yet  before  the  evening  gun  was  fired,  foot-sore  and 
jaded,  the  British  soldiers  flocked  back  to  their  quarters,  to 
find  themselves  prisoners  in  Boston.  How  the  little  band  of 
patriots  determined  to  gain  possession  of  Bunker's  Hill,  and, 
commanded  by  Colonel  Pepperell,  who  declared,  "  I  am  re- 
solved never  to  be  taken  alive,"  threw  up  the  entrenchments 
by  night.  When  the  sun  rose,  the  redoubt  was  seen  with 
astonishment  by  Gage  that  morning.  How,  under  a  scorch- 
ing sun,  and  a  storm  of  shot  and  shell,  from  Copp's  Hill  and 
the  war-sloop  "Lively,"  the  patriots  bravely  pursued  their 
work  where  now  a  lofty  column  overlooks  prosperous  cities, 
the  fair,  peaceful  landscape,  and  the  calm  water.  Prescott, 
that  day,  in  his  calico  frock,  as  serene  as  if  on  parade,  issued 
his  orders  to  the  little  band  of  resolute  men.  "  Who  is  that 
person?"  said  General  Gage,  as  he  stood  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  Charles  River.  "  My  brother-in-law,  Colonel  Pres- 
cott."  "  Will  he  fight  ?  "  "  Ay,  to  the  last  drop  of  his  blood." 
How  Joseph  Warren  came,  as  a  volunteer,  inquiring  where 
his  musket  would  do  the  most  service.  "  Go  to  the  redoubt ; 
you  will  there  be  covered,"  said  Prescott.  "  I  came  not  to 
be  covered,"  said  Warren.  "  Tell  me  where  the  fight  will  be 
the  hottest."  As  the  two  thousand  men  marched  up  to 
attack  them,  at  Prescott's  order,  "  Fire ! "  the  volley  swept 


THE  BATTLE   OF  BUNKER  HILL. 


381 


their  ranks ;  and,  wavering  and  advancing  in  the  teeth  of 
that  fearful  discharge,  the  British  carried  the  redoubt ;  but 
not  till  the  grenadiers  and  light  infantry  had  lost  three 
fourths  of  their  men,  and  the  dead  covered  the  ground ;  and 
only  when  resistance  was  fruitless  did  Prescott  give  the  order 
to  retire.  The  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  manifested  significantly 
that  the  colonists  could  fight,  and  with  a  steadiness  and  cour- 
age that  proved  them  capable  of  coping  with  the  disciplined 
troops  of  the  mother  country. 


ANTHONY  BURNS,    THE   FUGITIVE    SLAVE. 

This  is  history.  And  I  might  tell  of  the  struggle  in  the 
long  years  afterward,  but  I  forbear.  Shame  on  those  who 
tell  us  we  love  our  country  too  well.  We  are  bound  to  cher- 
ish our  free  institutions,  bought  for  us  with  so  much  sacrifice. 

All  this  was  before  the  memory  of  this  generation;  but 
many  of  us  can  remember  when  troops  paraded  Boston 
streets.  The  court-house  was  guarded,  pistol-shots  were 
heard  within  the  walls,  the  alarm-bell  clanged  in  defence  of 
law  and  order,  when  Anthony  Burns,  the  fugitive  slave, 
marched  through  the  streets  with  an  escort  of  dragoons, 


382  AN  AGE  OF  PROGRESS. 

marines,  guards,  and  artillery,  while  all  along  the  line  was 
heard  the  hiss  and  execration,  rising  and  redoubling  from 
street  to  street.  Ah,  well,  thank  God,  when  Abraham  Lin- 
coln set  his  name  to  that  immortal  document,  the  Emanci- 
pation Proclamation,  slavery  was  doomed,  and  when  Lee  gave 
up  his  sword  to  Grant  its  doom  was  sealed. 

Much  has  been  boastingly  said  about  the  wonderful  pro- 
gress the  world  has  made  in  the  present  century.  But  we 
who  can  look  back  fifty  years  realize  the  advance  that  has 
been  made  far  more  than  the  generation  of  to-day. 

It  is  a  small  affair  to  speak  of,  but  the  friction  match  is 
one  of  the  most  important  inventions  and  contrivances  for 
promoting  the  comfort  of  daily  life.  How  many  inventions 
contributing  to  our  comfort  we  can  record  in  the  last  half 
century !  —  indeed  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that,  for  comfort, 
convenience,  and  personal  advantage,  more  has  been  done, 
richer  and  more  prolific  discoveries  have  been  made,  grander 
achievements  have  been  realized,  in  the  past  half-century  of 
our  nation's  lifetime,  than  in  all  the  previous  lifetime  of  the 
race  since  states  or  nations  such  as  history  makes  us  acquainted 
with  have  had  their  being. 

In  philosophy,  poetry,  sculpture,  painting,  and  architecture 
we  have  made  but  little  progress.  We  have  not  advanced  on 
Homer's  poetry  or  Phidias's  sculpture.  The  palaces  of  the 
Greeks,  Romans,  Babylonians,  and  other  ancient  nations  were 
probably  as  luxurious,  but  incomparably  more  gorgeous  and 
enduring,  than  our  own.  But  in  how  many  significant  par- 
ticulars the  progress  of  the  world  has  been  concentrated  into 
the  last  century ! 

Printing  was  invented  four  centuries  ago,  and  yet  books 
printed  fifty  years  after  that  time  were  as  clear,  perfect,  and 
as  beautiful  specimens  as  many  books  of  to-day.  The  sum 
total  of  improvement  in  printing  is  cheapness  and  rapidity  of 


OLD-TIME   PRINTING. 


383 


production.  In  the  good  old  times  a  book  was  bequeathed  as 
an  invaluable  legacy;  if  given  to  a  religious  house  it  was 
offered  on  the  altar.  When  a  prelate  borrowed  a  Bible  his 
cathedral  gave  a  bond  for  its  return.  Libraries  consisted  of 
a  few  tracts  and  books,  chained  or  kept  in  chests. 

I  remember  the  tedious  process  of  printing  in  the  office 
attached  to  the  bindery  where  I  learned  my  trade.     The  press- 
man would  wet  down  the  paper  over-night ;  then  in  the  morn- 
ing he  would  carefully  place  a 
sheet  on  the  tympan,  close  the 
frisket  over  it,  and  shut  them 
down  upon  the  form  of  type; 
then,  by  a  crank,  he  would  run 
the  table  in  under  the  platen, 
and  pull  the  handle  of  the  lever 
over  by  his  full  weight,  bring- 
ing a  powerful  pressure  on  the 
tympan,   producing    upon    the 
paper  a  facsimile  of  the  type ;  as 
he  released  his  hold,  the  balance- 
weight  raised  the  platen,  the 
tympan   and   the   frisket  were 
raised  by  the  pressman,  the  fris- 
ket was  thrown  up  to  the  catch,  and  the  paper  was  then  taken 
off  the  spurs  of  the  points ;  and  thus  one  side  of  a  sheet  was 
printed.     Now,  by  improved  presses  and  the  wonderful  art  of 
stereotyping,  one  hundred  thousand  readers  can  be  supplied 
with  newspapers  in  four  hours. 

But  it  is  in  means  of  light,  locomotion,  and  communication 
that  the  progress  in  this  generation  contrasts  with  the  aggre- 
gate of  progress  in  all  generations  put  together  since  the 
earliest  days  of  authentic  history. 

The  lamps   and   torches  which   illuminated   Belshazzar's 


NOT   A  CIRCULATING    LIBKABY. 


384  MODERN  LIGHT  AND  LOCOMOTION. 

feast  were  probably  as  brilliant,  and  perhaps  formed  of  the 
same  materials,  as  those  which  shone  on  the  fetes  of  Versailles 
when  Marie  Antoinette  presided  over  them,  or  the  Tuileries 
during  the  magnificence  of  the  first  Napoleon ;  or  at  the 
receptions  of  Washington  in  the  Capitol  of  our  country.  Pine 
wood,  oil,  and  perhaps  wax,  were  the  materials  for  light  in 
the  eighteenth  century  before  Christ  and  in  the  eighteenth 
century  after  Christ.  A  hundred  years  ago  we  burned  the 
same  materials,  and  obtained  about  the  same  amount  of  light, 
as  they  did  five  thousand  years  ago.  The  streets  of  cities 
which  from  the  days  of  Pharaoh  till  1800  were  dim  and 
gloomy  are  now  lit  up  with  the  brightness  of  moonlight. 
Many  of  us  remember  the  oil  lamps  in  our  streets,  making 
darkness  visible.  Now  we  use  gas,  of  which  each  burner  is 
equal  to  fifteen  or  twenty  candles,  and  the  electric  light,  still 
more  brilliant,  is  introduced  all  over  our  country.  We  have 
the  Bude  light  and  the  calcium  light,  with  analogous  inven- 
tions fifty-fold  more  brilliant.  We  remember  the  method  of 
illumination  as  it  was  in  the  days  of  Solomon ;  we  see  it  as 
Faraday  and  Drummond  and  Edison  have  made  it. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  locomotion.  Nimrod  and  Noah 
travelled  in  much  the  same  way  and  at  about  the  same  rate  of 
speed  as  our  fathers,  —  yes,  as  some  of  us  did  when  we  were 
young.  When  Abraham  wanted  to  send  a  message  to  Lot, 
he  despatched  a  man  on  horseback,  who  might  gallop  twelve 
miles  an  hour ;  when  our  fathers  would  send  a  message  to 
their  nephews,  they  could  do  no  better  and  go  no  quicker. 
When  we  travelled  from  Boston  to  New  York,  we  did  well  to 
average  eight  miles  an  hour.  I  remember  travelling,  in  1829, 
from  Albany  to  Utica  in  a  canal-boat,  and  made  three  miles 
an  hour ;  and  in  1832  I  travelled  from  Utica  to  Albany  by 
stage,  and  made  six  miles  an  hour.  At  that  time  we  de- 
pended on  the  speed  and  endurance  of  the  horses.  "How 


THE  PASSENGER  FOR  FISHKILL. 


far  is  it  to  Jefferson?  "  asked  a  man  of  a  negro.  "  Well,  sah, 
wid  dat  lioss  it 's  seventeen  miles ;  wid  a  good  hoss  it 's  seven 
miles,  but  if  you  had  Massa  Sam's  hoss,  you 'in  dar  now." 
Now  we  can  leave  Portland  in  the  morning,  breakfast  in 
Boston,  lunch  in  Springfield,  dine  in  New  York,  sleep  in 
Philadelphia,  or  go  on  and  breakfast  next  morning  in  Rich- 
mond. I  can  leave  New  York  in  the  morning  and  reach 

Buffalo  in  ample  time  to 
lecture  the  same  evening. 
An  old  story  will  illus- 
trate the  confidence  in  the 
prompt  arrival  of  trains. 
On  the  Hudson  River 
Railroad  a  man  contin- 
ually inquired  of  the  con- 
ductor whether  the  train 
had  arrived  at  Fishkill. 
"  No,  sir,  you  rest  content^ 
I  will  tell  you  when  we 
get  there."  At  last  Fish- 
kill  was  reached,  and  as 
the  train  started  again 
the  conductor  came  into 
the  car.  "  Conductor,  is  this  Fishkill  ?  "  "  Dear  me, 
yes,  I  forgot  you."  He  pulled  the  cord  and  stopped  the 
train.  "  Now  then,  hurry  up  and  get  out,  this  is  the  place, 
and  we  are  losing  time."  "Oh,  I  don't  want  to  get  out, 
but  my  wife  told  me  when  I  got  to  Fishkill,  I  must  take  a 
pill." 

Everything  that  has  been  done  in  the  line  of  fast  travel 
since  the  world  began  has  been  done  since  we  were  boys. 
To  be  sure,  greater  speed  has  been  and  is  constantly  being 
attained  by  the  improvement  of  roads.  I  remember  the  talk 


SEVENTEEN    MILES        WID   DAT   HOSS. 


386  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  PAST. 

about  coaches  without  horses,  and  when  I  was  a  boy  I  used 
to  sing  the  following  song :  — 

"  Oh  dear,  oh  dear,  the  truth  I  say, 
Something  new  starts  every  day ; 
Steam  for  boiling,  steam  for  baking, 
Steam  for  brewing  and  sausage-making, 
Steam  to  fire  large  balls  and  bullets, 
Steam  to  hatch  out  chickens  and  pullets, 
Oh  dear,  oh  dear,  the  truth  I  say." 

In  1831  I  rode  from  Albany  to  Schenectady  on  the  first 
railroad  built  in  this  country,  when  we  travelled  sixteen  miles 
in  an  hour  and  twenty  minutes,  the  cars  being  open,  some- 
thing like  the  summer  street-cars  of  the  present  day.  The 
rails  were  flat,  spiked  on  timbers,  and  the  passengers  were 
constantly  in  danger  of  "snake-heads."  Now  in  our  luxurious 
palace-cars  we  travel  from  New  York  to  Chicago,  a  thousand 
miles,  in  twenty-six  hours.  In  1829  I  was  sixty-three  days  in 
crossing  the  Atlantic,  and  a  quick  passage  was  thirty  days ; 
in  1879  I  crossed  in  nine  days ;  and  now  the  voyage  is  often 
made  in  less  than  seven  days. 

The  progress  in  the  means  of  communication  is  more  re- 
markable than  all.  Washington  was  no  better  off  in  this 
respect  than  the  consuls  of  ancient  Rome,  or  the  Pitt  minis- 
try of  England  than  Julius  Csesar  when  he  landed  on  the 
shores  of  Great  Britain  eighteen  hundred  years  before.  I 
remember  the  clumsy  method  of  telegraphing  on  the  martello 
towers  and  stone  round-houses,  on  eminences  along  the  coast, 
by  horizontal  arms  worked  on  an  upright  timber,  operated  by 
pulleys ;  signs  were  made  from  hill-top  to  hill-top,  conveying 
information  slowly  and  tediously  from  point  to  point.  Now 
the  clocks  in  all  Great  Britain  can  be  regulated  by  Greenwich 
time  through  electricity,  and  Washington  can  communicate 
with  St.  Stephen's  as  fast  as  the  words  can  be  written.  If 
David  wished  to  send  a  word  of  love  to  Jonathan,  a  hundred 


A  QUEER  IDEA  OF  TELEGRAPHING.  387 

miles  away,  he  could  not  have  done  it  in  less  than  ten  hours, 
Nor  could  we  have  sent  word  faster  fifty  years  ago.  Now  we 
send  a  message  a  thousand  miles  in  ten  seconds.  At  our 
breakfast  tables  we  read  in  our  morning  papers  all  that  oc- 
curred of  importance  the  day  before,  and  what  the  state  of 
the  weather  was  the  world  over.  I  well  remember  being  in 
Baltimore  on  the  day  when  the  first  message  was  sent  from 
Washington,  and  how  great  the  excitement  was  in  the  streets. 
Men  readily  paid  one  dollar  to  send  a  short  message  to 
Washington  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  the  slip  of  paper 
marked,  at  that  time,  with  dots  conveying  the  intelligence 
that  the  message  had  been  received.  Time  and  space  would 
fail  me  to  speak  of  the  new  and  wonderful  invention  of  the 
telephone,  by  which  articulate  sounds  can  be  conveyed  from 
Chicago  to  New  York,  one  thousand  miles,  and  the  voice  of 
the  speaker  be  distinctly  recognized. 

This  generation  can  hardly  conceive  the  astonishment 
once  expressed  at  what  are  to  them  common  things.  Men 
travelled  miles  to  see  the  "fire-cart."  A  steamboat  was 
described  as  having  a  saw-mill  on  one  side  and  a  grist-mill  on 
the  other,  a  blacksmith's  shop  in  the  middle,  and  a  great  pot 
a-boiling  all  the  time  in  the  cellar.  During  the  Mexican  war, 
in  a  thunderstorm,  the  lightning  ran  along  the  wires ;  a  man 
cried  out,  "  There  goes  the  news  from  the  seat  of  war."  A 
man  said  to  his  wife :  "  Well,  I  don't  see  for  my  part  how 
they  send  letters  on  them  'ere  wires  without  tearing  'em  all  to 
bits."  "  Laws  me ! "  his  wife  said,  "  they  don't  send  the 
paper,  only  just  the  writin'."  I  must  confess  that  the  magnetic 
telegraph  is  to  me  a  puzzle.  Operators  have  often  endeavored 
to  explain  it  to  me,  but  I  may  be  so  dull  of  apprehension  that 
I  cannot  comprehend  it.  The  very  best  description  of  it  I 
ever  heard  was  from  a  negro,  who  said  to  his  companion :  — 

"  Sam,  do  you  know  what  de  'lectric  telegraph  is  ?  "     "  No, 

24 


388 


AN  ORIGINAL  EXPLANATION. 


I  don't  know  what  it  am."  "But  I  can  'splain  one  to 
you."  "  Well,  'splain  away,  den."  "  S'pose  dere  was  a  dog 
with  his  head  in  New  York  and  his  tail  in  Pennsylvania." 
"But  dere  nebber  was  sich  a  dog  as  dat."  "I  said,  s'pose 
dere  was  sich  a  dog."  "Werry  well,  s'pose  away  den." 
"S'pose  dere  was  a  dog  with  his  head  in 
New  York  and  his  tail  in  Pennsylvania. 
Well,  when  I  tread  on  dat  dog's  tail  in 
Pennsylvania, he  would  bark 
in  New  York,  would  n't  he  ? 
Dat 's  de  'lectric 
telegraph." 

When  gas  was 
first  introduced, 
an  old  lady  in 
Edinburgh 
threw  up  her 
hands,  exclaim- 
ing, "  Ah,  me, 
what  is  to  be- 
come of  the  puir 
whales?" 

Scarcely    any 

important  invention  has  started  at  once  into  being,  and  it  is 
curious  to  trace  their  progress  from  the  inception  to  the  final 
grand  practical  result.  Dr.  Johnson  saw  a  lamplighter  in 
Bolt  Court,  trying  unsuccessfully  to  light  a  lamp,  until  there 
was  a  black  vapor  on  the  wick.  "Ah,"  said  the  Doctor, 
"  one  of  these  days  we  shall  see  London  lighted  by  smoke." 
A  hundred  and  fifty  years  before  gas  was  used,  Dr.  Clayton 
distilled  coal  in  a  retort,  but  could  not  condense  the  gas  thus 
obtained.  He  amused  his  friends  by  burning  gas,  as  it  is- 
sued through  holes  pricked  with  a  pin  in  a  bladder  in  which 


EXPLAINING  "DE  'LECTRIC  TELEGRAPH.' 


PUFFED   UP  WITH  PKIDE.  339 

he  had  confined  it.  The  history  of  steam  invention  is  famil- 
iar to  all.  Jonathan  Hulls  did  actually  make  a  model  of  a 
steamboat  in  1736 ;  it  failed,  and  the  boys  sung  this  doggerel 
in  the  streets  where  he  lived :  — 

"  Jonathan  Hulls, 
With  his  paper  sculls, 
Invented  a  machine 
To  go  against  stream, 
But  he,  being  an  ass, 
Could  not  bring  it  to  pass, 
And  so  was  ashamed  to  be  seen." 

Yes,  there  is  much  to  excite  our  wonder  in  the  giant 
strides  of  progress  in  the  last  fifty  years,  and  there  is  a  clear 
call  to  a  real  festival  of  hope,  gladness,  and  rejoicing  in  the 
present  light.  But  what  should  be  our  attitude  in  this 
steadily  growing  radiance?  If  we  stand  now  in  the  flush 
and  gold  and  hope  of  the  morning,  instead  of  the  shifting 
light  and  shadow  of  the  night,  is  it  not  the  wisest  course 
to  take  frequent  observations,  look  close  to  our  reckonings, 
while  we  are  going  so  fast,  and  see  just  where  we  are?  It 
requires  more  thought  and  watchfulness  to  cross  the  path  of 
the  lightning  express  than  it  does  to  cross  that  of  a  donkey- 
cart  in  a  country  lane ;  and  as  all  progress  is  a  learning,  is 
not  the  safe  attitude  of  a  learner  to  be  modest,  reverent,  self- 
restrained,  and  observant?  Will  noise  and  boastfulness  ap- 
prehend the  glory  of  the  growing  day  ? 

Do  we  not  see  men  on  every  side  making  boastful  con- 
gratulations that  we  are  not  as  our  grandsires  were  ?  Is  it  not 
a  common  occurrence  for  newspaper  articles  on  the  times  to 
begin  with,  "In  these  days  of  refinement,"  "In  this  era 
of  enlightenment  and  civilization,"  "In  this  age  of  progress," 
etc.?  while  the  nineteenth  century  runs  up  and  down  in 
the  land,  decked  in  its  phylacteries,  or,  like  a  hen  that  has 
laid  its  virgin  egg,  struts  about  cackling,  "Look  at  me; 
admire  me,  I  'in  the  nineteenth  century." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


DANGER    SIGNALS  —  NOTES     OF     WARNING    FROM     EARLIER 
DAYS   AND   SCENES  —  RECOLLECTIONS   OF  THE  PAST. 

Lamentable  Ignorance  —  Thin-skinned  People  — How  Some  of  Them  Show 
Their  Indignation  —  Proving  a  Man  a  Liar  —  Gentility  is  Not  Always 
Respectability  —  Clothes  Do  Not  Always  Proclaim  the  Man  —  "A  Man's 
a  Man  for  a'  That "  —  The  Curtain  Lifted  —  A  Peep  Behind  the  Scenes  — 
Personal  Recollections  —  My  First  Address  in  Boston  —  Recalling  My 
Theatrical  Days  —  Companions  of  My  Youth  —  Tragic  Deaths  —  Fate  of 
Some  of  My  Comrades  —  An  Incident  in  Glasgow  —  A  Dastardly  Act  — 
Terrible  Consequences  That  Followed  —  Found  Dead  Among  the  Rushes — 
My  Visit  to  the  Indianapolis  Lunatic  Asylum —  Raving  of  Devils.  Snakes, 
and  Creeping  Things  — "Oh!  How  They  Glare  at  Me!"  — "They 
Creep!  They  Crawl !"— AAvful  Scenes  —  Graphic  Pen  Picture  of  a 
Toper  —  The  Devil's  Workshop  —  Satan's  Abode — Calling  His  Satellites 
Around  Him  — Alcohol,  the  Right  Hand  of  the  Devil  —  An  Uncom- 
promising Fight. 

HAVE  been  surprised  at  the 
lamentable  ignorance  which 
exists  with  regard  to  the  tem- 
perance enterprise  among  a 
class  by  no  means  ill-informed, 
men  who,  perhaps,  on  other 
subjects,  have  forgotten  more 
than  I  ever  knew  or  ever  shall 
know.  A  friend  told  me  he  was 
asked  by  a  gentleman  if  he  ever  drank 
coffee.  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  "  Do 
you  ever  drink  coffee  ?  "  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  "  Why, 
you  are  a  teetotaler,  and  I  suppose  you  drink  only  tea."  That 
was  his  idea  of  teetotalism.  Other  manifestations  of  a  want  of 
knowledge  regarding  the  subject  are  the  spiteful  sneers  at  our 
principles,  and  the  contempt  which  some  men  cast  upon  our 
390 


I  DESPISE   EVERYBODY.' 


391 


movement.  I  have  often  been  astonished  to  find  gentlemen 
speaking  so  slightingly  and  acting  so  unwisely  in  this  matter. 
When  I  hear  any  man  speak  contemptuously  of  this  movement, 
I  know  at  once  that  he  is  ignorant  concerning  it.  I  defy  any 
man  of  common  sense  to  despise  it  after  he  is  acquainted  with 
the  history  of  the  reform  from  the  time  when  a  feeble  barrier 
was  first  raised  against  the  tide  of  death ;  I  defy  him  to  despise 

it  after  he  has  made  himself  ac- 
quainted with  an  instrumentality 
feeble  in  itself,  but  made  mighty 
by  God's  power  to  pulling  down 
the  strongholds  of  intemperance ; 
I  defy  him  to  witness  the  revo- 
lution now  going  011  in  society, 
and  despise  the  means  by  which 
that  revolution  is  produced.  The 
temperance  enterprise  rises  before 
him  in  its  glory,  grandeur,  and 
beauty,  claiming  and  receiving,  in 
proportion  to  his  knowledge,  in- 
voluntary respect,  however  much 
he  may  be  led  to  oppose  it. 

When  we  speak  of  effects,  no- 
body gets  angry;  but  when  we 
speak  of  the  causes,  we  touch  indi- 
viduals, for  these  causes  cannot  exist  without  human  agency. 
I  have  seen  some  persons  manifest  decided  wrath  when  they 
did  not  approve  of  some  sentiment  uttered  at  a  meeting.  I 
have  seen  a  thin-skinned  man  button  up  his  coat  —  the  more 
buttons  the  better  —  and  look  very  fiercely  around  him  as  if 
he  longed  to  try  his  powers  on  somebody,  take  up  his  hat,  and 
smash  it  down  over  his  eyes  till  he  looked  like  a  certain  mem- 
ber of  Parliament  when  he  said,  "  I  despise  everybody."  I 


A   THIN-SKINNED    MAN. 


392  PROVING  A  MAN  A  LIAR. 

have  seen  persons  walk  out  of  the  hall  and  bang  the  door  after 
them  because  something  that  was  said  offended  them.  Now 
that  is  the  smallest,  most  cowardly  method  of  showing  resent- 
ment, that  I  know  of.  I  saw  a  man  once  go  out  of  a  place  of 
worship  because  the  minister  said  something  he  did  not  ap- 
prove, just  as  if  a  minister  was  placed  in  the  sacred  desk  to 
consult  the  tastes  and  opinions  of  his  people,  and  ask  how 
much,  or  how  little,  of  the  gospel  he  should  preach.  A  man,  if 
he  has  God's  spirit  in  his  heart  and  God's  message  in  his  hand, 
can  command  the  respect  of  his  people  by  the  rules  laid  down 
in  the  gospel ;  and  if  preaching  the  gospel  drives  men  out  of 
the  church,  let  them  go,  for  the  church  is  better  off  without 
them.  The  strength  of  the  church  of  Christ,  I  believe,  con- 
sists not  so  much  in  its  numbers,  its  wealth,  or  its  popularity, 
as  in  its  purity. 

I  do  not  say  that  respectable  moderate  drinkers  perpetuate 
the  evil  of  drunkenness  intentionally,  but  I  say  that  they  do 
it ;  and  if  I  should  prove  it,  I  have  no  doubt  that  some  one 
would  be  very  angry.  The  assertion  itself  will  not  make 
people  angry  ;  they  will  say,  "  O,  that  is  a  man's  opinion  and 
nothing  more ; "  but  if  the  man  proves  his  opinions  to  be  cor- 
rect, then  is  the  time  when  offence  is  given.  A  man  went  to 
his  neighbor  and  said :  — 

"  So-and-so  called  me  a  liar." 
"  Oh,  never  mind  that." 

"  But  I  do  mind  it ;  it  pains  me,  it  hurts  my  feelings  when 
a  man  calls  me  a  liar." 

"  Oh,  never  mind,  I  should  not  mind  it." 
"  I  say  you  would  mind  it  as  much  as  I  do." 
"  Oh  no,  think  nothing  of  it ;  you  know  he  can't  prove  it." 
"  Why,  confound  the  fellow,  he  has  proved  it,  and  that 's 
what  makes  me  so  mad." 

,  I  do  not  condemn  the  respectable  moderate  drinker 


THE  SOT'S  INVITATION. 


393 


as  purposely  perpetuating  drunkenness,  but  he  does  it.  And 
when  I  say  the  respectable  moderate  drinker,  it  must  be  under- 
stood that  I  do  not  judge  of  a  man's  respectability  by  the  qual- 
ity of  his  coat  or  the  amount  of  his  bank  stock.  I  do  not  think 
a  man  who  is  what  we  call  genteel  is  necessarily  respectable. 
Gentility  is  not  always  respectability.  A  man  may  have  a 
hand  as  hard  as  horn ;  he  may  wear  a  fustian  jacket,  moleskin 
trousers,  and  hob-nailed  shoes ;  if  he  is  only  right  in  his  head 
and  heart  he  is  a  gentleman.  I 
do  not  care  whether  he  digs 
coal  in  the  deepest  mine  in  the 
land  or  pleads  in  the  highest 
court.  "A  man's  a  man  for  a' 
that."  It  is  the  respectability  of 
a  man,  morally  considered,  that 
I  speak  of  when  I  use  the  term 
"  respectable  moderate  drinker." 
Now  let  me  prove  my  point. 
Suppose  some  respectable  young 
man,  —  your  son,  for  instance,  — 
while  walking  through  the  street 
should  meet  the  worst  drunkard 
in  town, —  one  of  those  miserable, 
pale-faced,  ghastly,  hollow-eyed  gin-drinkers,  or  one  of  those 
blear-eyed,  bloated  wretches,  offensive  to  every  sense.  He 
comes  up  to  your  son,  puts  his  hand  on  his  shoulder,  looks  him 
in  the  face  with  a  maudlin  look,  and  says,  "  Come,  I  've  got  a 
bottle  of  liquor  in  my  pocket,  and  I  shall  be  very  much 
obliged  to  you  for  the  privilege  of  taking  a  social  glass  with 
7ou." 

Now,  if  your  son  never  drinks  till  he  drinks  with  him,  he 
will  never  drink  at  all ;  if  he  waits  to  take  the  first  glass  till 
he  takes  it  in  such  company,  he  will  never  take  it ;  he  will 


TEMPTATION   RESISTED. 


394 


THE   CURTAIN  LIFTED. 


be  a  total  abstainer  as  long  as  he  lives.  But  if  a  respecta* 
ble  young  lady  were  to  ask  your  son  to  take  wine,  he  would 
probably  say,  "  if  you  please,  madam,"  and  take  it  in  a  min- 
ute. If  any  respectable  gentleman  asked  him  to  take  wine 
at  his  table,  he  might  take  it  without  a  blush  on  his  cheek. 
It  is  a  respectable  practice,  maintained  and  supported  by  a, 
respectable  community.  But  if  we  can  only  make  it  dis- 
reputable to  use  strong- 
drink  as  a  beverage,  dis- 
graceful to  offer  it  as  arj. 
article  of  entertainment., 
the  next  generation  isi 
saved  with  very  little 
trouble.  Saved  from 
what  ?  Let  us  unroll  the 
canvas,  let  us  lift  the 
curtain. 

I  once  belonged  to  a 
club  of  young  men,  which 
at  one  time  was  called 
the  Shakespeare  Club, 
because  many  of  its  mem- 
bers were  theatrical  gen- 
tlemen; and  in  that  pro- 
fession you  will  find  some 
splendid  fellows,  as  the  world  terms  them,  with  natural 
ability  and  genius.  Some  such  there  were  in  that  club. 
I  knew  them  well.  They  received  me  into  their  society,  and 
out  of  the  thirty-five  or  thirty-six  members  of  that  club,  I  was 
among  the  least  in  intellect  and  genius.  Many  years  after  I 
left  that  club,  I  delivered  the  first  temperance  address  that 
was  ever  delivered  in  the  Boston  Melodeon.  I  said :  — 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  —  Twelve  years  ago  I  stood  in 


A  BOOK  TO   KUIJT. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  EAELY  DAYS. 


395 


this  building,  the  last  time  it  was  opened  for  theatrical  per- 
formances. The  play  then  was,  'Departed  Spirits;  or,  the 
Temperance  Hoax,'  in  which  some  of  the  best  and  most 
glorious  pioneers  and  leaders  of  this  enterprise  were  held  up 
to  scorn  and  contempt.  Where  I  stand  was  the  stage  ;  where 
that  organ  stands  were  the  scenery  and  machinery ;  before 
me  was  the  pit ;  there  is  the  first,  and  there  the  second  row 
of  boxes ;  the  third  has  been 
taken  away  ;  there  is  the  door 
which  led  to  one  dressing- 
room  ;  and  there  the  door 
which  led  to  another. 

"  This  house  is 
very  little  changed, 
but  circumstances 
are  greatly  changed. 
Where  are  the  young 
men  who,  twelve 
years  ago,  associated 
with  me  in  this 
house,  —  where? 
Echo  only  answers, 
'Where?'  I  knew 
them,  —  one  a  fine  singer,  a  man  who  kept  horses  worth 
seven  hundred  dollars  at  Reed's  establishment,  at  the  back 
of  the  Pemberton  House,  used  to  invite  us  to  ride,  and 
many  a  ride  I  have  had  with  him  to  Brighton  and  Brookline 
and  vicinity.  Where  is  he  ?  Dead !  Where  did  he  die  ? 
He  died  in  a  horse-trough  in  the  stable  where  he  once  kept 
his  fine  horses.  No  one  was  with  him  when  he  died  except  a 
city  missionary,  John  Augustus.  The  thought  that  saddened 
him  when  dying  was,  '  My  old  friends  have  left  me ;  and 
there  is  no  one  with  me  to  wipe  the  cold  sweat  from  my 


SAD   FATE   OF   ONE   OF   MY   COMPANIONS. 


396  COMPANIONS  OF  MY  YOUTH. 

brow  but  a  city  missionary  that  I  have  scoffed  and  laughed 
at  as  a  fanatic.'  He  died,  struggling  in  his  wretched  bed, 
cursing  those  who  had  brought  him  to  ruin." 

"Another,  a  classical  scholar,  a  college  graduate,  a  man 
whose  presence  of  mind  in  danger  or  difficulty  exceeded  that 
of  any  man  I  ever  knew.  He  was  the  most  intensely  practical 
joker  I  ever  saw  in  my  life,  one  that  nothing  in  the  world  could 
daunt,  a  man  who  always  (as  we  say)  had  his  wits  about  him. 
Where  is  he?  Dead!  Where  did  he  die?  He  died  in  a 
drunken  debauch,  falling  down  a  flight  of  stairs  when  endea- 
voring to  find  his  way  without  a  light  in  a  Pittsburg  hotel. 
He  broke  his  n^ck,  and  scarce  a  dozen  persons  went  to  his 
funeral." 

I  spoke  of  another  and  another.  And  one  of  them,  —  I 
saw  him  die.  He  had  not  seen  his  twenty-third  birthday. 
He  had  bitten  his  tongue  through  twice,  until  it  grew  so 
large  that  he  could  not  articulate,  and  he  spat  out  the  bloody 
foam  in  his  attempt  to  utter  words.  He  sprang  from  his  bed, 
dashed  himself  against  the  wall,  fell  back  in  quivering  con- 
vulsions, was  taken  up  and  laid  down  again  on  the  bed,  and 
there  he  died. 

Another  one  said  to  me :  "  I  am  longing  to  quit  this  course 
of  living ;  I  shall  go  to  sea,  and  get  out  of  temptation."  He 
got  drunk  for  the  last  time,  as  he  said ;  went  on  board  a 
whaleship,  and,  going  up  aloft  while  under  the  influence  of 
the  shakes  from  his  last  night's  spree,  fell  and  dashed  his 
brains  out  on  the  deck. 

I  remember  a  friend  said  to  me  one  morning,  "  Philip  R.  is 
dead."  "No!"  "Yes."  "Where  did  he  die?  I  was  at  a 
supper  given  by  an  engine  company  last  night,  and  he  was 
there  rather  how-come-you-so  — .  He  can't  be  dead."  "  But 
he  is.  The  watchman  found  him  in  the  gutter.  He  started 
to  walk  home  while  intoxicated,  and  fell.  His  warm  body 


A  COWARDLY  TRICK.  397 

melted  the  ice,  and  you  know  how  cold  the  night  was.  He 
was  found  badly  frozen.  They  took  him  to  a  house,  but  he 
was  too  far  gone,  and  died  in  a  few  hours." 

A  gentleman  in  Glasgow  once  gave  me  the  following  in 
writing.  A  young  man,  a  machinist,  a  splendid  workman, 
but  a  notorious  drunkard,  was  induced  to  put  his  name  to  the 
pledge,  and  he  kept  that  pledge  for  six  years.  He  withstood 
all  temptation,  —  the  temptation  at  the  corner  of  the  street, 
in  the  social  circle,  among  his  friends,  and,  what  was  worse 
than  all,  the  temptation  in  his  shop ;  for  I  think  that  in  many 
cases  the  persecution  of  workingmen  by  workingmen  is  ten- . 
fold  worse  than  the  persecution  of  workingmen  by  their 
employers.  I  think  that  the  tyrannous  drinking  customs  of 
these  shops  are  an  abomination.  There  are  known  men  in 
this  country,  —  I  have  seen  them  and  read  their  letters  in  the 
newspapers, — who  are  now  wandering  about  in  quest  of 
work,  honest,  sober,  industrious  men,  who  have  been  driven 
from  shop  to  shop  because  their  companions  have  made  each 
place  too  hot  to  hold  them,  in  consequence  of  their  refusal  to 
bow  down  to  the  accursed  drinking  customs  of  their  fellow- 
workmen.  (This  refers  to  Glasgow  some  years  since.)  That 
man  withstood  all  these  temptations.  When  his  only  sister 
was  married,  he  went  to  the  wedding.  They  knew  that,  if 
they  asked  him  to  drink,  he  would  refuse ;  that,  if  they 
offered  him  whiskey,  he  would  spurn  it  with  contempt; 
indeed,  they  were  afraid  to  ask  him,  for  he  had  strong  fists, 
and  he  threatened  to  thrash  any  man  that  would  tempt  him 
to  drink.  In  the  midst  of  the  festivities,  however,  tea 
was  passed  around,  and  some  one  wickedly  and  fiendishly, 
with  a  coward's  spirit,  put  a  quantity  of  whiskey  in  his  tea. 
He  drank  it.  He  was  not  aware  that  there  was  in  it  an  influ- 
ence that  would  operate  on  his  system  as  it  did;  and  he  never 
drew  a  sober  breath  after  that.  Three  weeks  from  that  day 


398 


A  VISIT  TO  AN  INSANE  ASYLUM. 


he  was  found  among  the  rushes  by  the  river,  staring,  as  only 
a  dead  man  can  stare,  into  the  bright  blue  sky,  the  foam 
oozing  from  his  livid  lips.  He  knew  not  that  he  had  drank 
the  spirit ;  but  its  influence  was  upon  his  physical  frame,  run- 
ning like  fire  through  his  blood  and  nerves, 
and  dragging  him  down  to  drunkenness  and 
death.  It  is  a  hard  matter  to  save  a  drunk- 
ard, when  this  fearful  habit  is  acquired. 


FOUND  DEAD   AMONG  THE 
HUSHES. 


I  remember  visiting  the  lun- 
atic  asylum  in  Indianapolis, 
when  a  minister  of  the  gospel 
pointed  out  to  me  a  young  girl. 
A  more  beautiful  girl  I  think  I  never  saw,  but  she  was  rav- 
ing mad,  and  her  hands  were  confined  to  keep  her  from  doing 
herself  injury.  The  minister  said :  — 

"  That  girl  was  a  member  of  my  church,  and  I  believe  she 
was  a  Christian.  Her  father  was  a  drunkard.  She  would 
come  to  me  and  ask  :  '  What  shall  I  do  ?  What  can  I  do  ?  I 
will  do  anything  to  save  my  father,  but  I  am  hopeless.  Why, 
sir,  he  abuses  my  mother  so  brutally  that  I  shall  go  mad.  I 
will  not  leave  her,  and  she  will  not  leave  my  father.'  One 


A  TERRIBLE   SPECTACLE.  399 

day  that  man  came  home  raving  mad  with  drink ;  he  seized 
his  wife  and  dashed  her  to  the  floor,  and  with  his  fist  began 
to  beat  her  upturned  face  till  his  hand  was  bloody  to  the 
wrist.  The  girl  was  there.  What  did  she  do  ?  What  could 
she  do  ?  It  was  her  mother  whom  she  saw  thus  abused.  Her 
brain  reeled;  she  rushed  into  a  wood-house,  seized  an  axe, 
and  struck  her  father  with  it  several  times ;  and  the  doctor 
said  there  was  not  a  blow  but  would  have  killed  him.  As 
her  father  fell  dead,  she  went  mad,  and  not  a  single  ray  of 
light  has  penetrated  the  darkness  of  her  mind  from  that 
time  to  this."  When  I  saw  in  his  description  a  man  beating 
the  face  of  a  woman  whom  he  had  sworn  to  love  and  cher- 
ish, I  own  I  felt  indignation  in  my  heart,  sending  the  hot 
blood  to  the  tips  of  my  fingers.  Said  I,  "It  served  him 
right,  the  miserable  brute ;  I  am  glad  she  killed  him."  "Stop, 
sir,"  said  the  minister,  "I  am  sorry  to  hear  you  say  that. 
That  man,  when  sober,  was  a  tender-hearted  man,  and  one  of 
the  kindest  men  I  ever  knew.  He  was  a  noble-hearted,  gen- 
erous man,  ready  with  his  means  to  help  the  distressed ;  but 
when  he  was  drunk  he  was  a  fiend."  When  we  speak  of  the 
brutality  of  the  drunkard,  let  us  raise  a  voice  of  indignation 
and  condemnation  against  the  cause  that  brutalizes  men  more 
than  any  other  instrumentality.  Oh,  it  is  pitiful  to  see  the 
brutalizing  influences  of  the  drink  made  manifest  among  us ! 
See  that  strong  man  raving  of  devils,  snakes,  and  creeping 
things  innumerable,  small  and  great.  Mark  his  flushed  face, 
eyes  bloodshot  and  glaring,  his  tongue  bitten  through,  his 
black  lips  streaked  with  bloody  foam,  struggling  with  all  his 
might  against  imaginary  demons,  shouting,  and  hoarsely  yell- 
ing :  "  Oh,  how  they  glare  on  me  !  Ah,  I  will  have  it,  out 
with  you  yet !  Off !  off !  I  say.  Ah,  yes.  Crawl,  —  crawl. 
Creep,  — creep.  Help!  oh,  help!"  Then  gabbling,  implor- 
ing pity,  a  prey  to  horrors  unutterable,  hideous  things  glaring 


400 


OH,  HORROR!  DRIVE  THEM  AWAY! 


at  him  from  the  walls,  stretching  out  their  long,  glistening 
arms ;  disgusting,  slimy  reptiles  crawling  over  him  in  swarms. 
Turn  which  way  he  will,  there  they  are,  —  on  the  floor,  the 
walls,  the  ceiling,  writhing  under  the  door ;  millions  of  them ! 
"  Oh,  horror  !  Drive  them  away  !  They  creep,  they  crawl ! 
Pity,  oh  pity !  Help  !  help  !  "  He  suffers  days  and  nights 
of  indescribable  agony  and  horror.  This  is  the  awful 
scourge,  "Mania  a  potu"  the 
trembling  madness  that  the 
drunkard  manufactures  for  his 
own  torment. 

Mark  me,  I  do  not  say  that 
all  this  will  come  to  you;  that 
if  you  taste,  you  must  pay  this 
awful  penalty.  But  there  is 
no  curse  like  that  of  appetite. 
This  frightful  visitation  that  I 
have  been  speaking  of  maj 
not  come  to  you;  but  it  has 
come,  and  is  coming,  to  many. 
What  numbers  are  being,  and 
have  been,  swept  down  by  the 
hurricane  of  temptation !  In 
the  mad  fever  of  this  passion 
they  have  burst  the  bonds  of  a 
mother's  love,  trampled  a  father's  counsels  in  the  dust,  mocked 
at  reproofs  and  tears  and  prayers;  and  now,  with  tattered 
sails,  leaking  hull,  and  splintered  masts,  the  poor  bark  is  drift- 
ing on,  amid  howling  winds  and  wintry  seas,  to  utter  ruin, 
when  it  might  have  reached  the  haven  of  peace  and  security, 
laden  with  honor  and  happiness.  All  this  with  no  possible 
good  to  balance  it.  I  grant  you  there  is  a  stimulus  in  the 
liquor,  and  that  is  the  reason  men  drink  it. 


A  FRIGHTFUL   VISION. 


WHAT  THE  DRUNKARD   CRAVES.  4Q1 

There  was  a  very  amusing  little  picture  in  "  Punch,"  a  year 
or  two  ago,  I  think.  A  gentleman,  wishing  to  give  to  his 
tenant  farmers  the  light  wines  of  France,  provided  several 
bottles  of  them  for  dinner.  One  man  had  drunk  a  good  deal, 
and  the  host  said  to  him,  "  Don't  you  think  this  light  wine 
very  good?  "  "  Oh  yes,  it  is  very  nice,  but  we  don't  seem  to 
get  no  forrarder."  Now  if  they  do  not  get  any  forrarder 
they  might  as  well  be  drinking  tea,  lemonade,  chocolate,  or 
anything  else.  But  everybody  who  drinks,  drinks  because  he 
wants  to  get  a  little  forrarder.  Why,  this  is  the  very  princi- 
ple that  is  the  ruin  of  these  men.  It  is  the  gratification  pro- 
duced by  the  drink  that  makes  men  seek  it.  I  grant  you 
there  is  social  gratification,  too.  I  have  experienced  it  my- 
self, as  well  as  observed  it  in  other  men.  There  is  social 
gratification  when  men  sit  together  and  talk  and  chat,  and 
one  glass  follows  another  till  they  get  "  altogetherish,"  as 
men  do  sometimes.  Yes,  there  is  gratification  in  the  drink. 

That  is  what  the  drunkard  craves  ?  Did  you  ever  see  such 
a  one  early  in  the  morning  ?  for  the  drunkard  is  an  early  riser. 
He  rises  early  that  he  may,  in  the  words  of  Scripture,  "  seek 
it  yet  again  ; "  slouching  along  the  street  towards  the  liquor- 
shop,  shivering  with  the  cold,  holding  himself  together,  his 
eyes  dull  and  bleared,  licking  his  white  lips  with  his  whiter 
tongue  as  he  longs  for  the  stimulant.  Have  you  ever  watched 
him  going  up  to  the  bar  and  calling  for  his  drink  ?  Have 
you  ever  seen  him  take  the  glass  of  spirits  in  his  hand?  I 
have,  over  and  over  again.  He  lifts  it  to  his  lips,  and  then, 
with  a  shudder  sets  it  down  again.  What  is  the  matter  ?  All 
there  is  in  him  revolts  at  it.  Everything  there  is  in  him 
loathes  it.  Is  he  going  to  drink  in  order  to  gratify  his  palate  ? 
He  loathes  the  spirit,  yet  he  will  have  it.  He  grips  the  glass 
again.  He  brings  it  to  his  lips.  The  very  smell  of  it  so  sick- 
ens him  that  he  turns  away  with  disgust,  and  he  will  make 


402 


WAITING  FOR  THE  EFFECT. 


the  attempt  half  a  dozen  times  and  fail.  Give  him  a  pickle 
or  a  slice  of  lemon  or  anything  with  a  pungent  taste  to  it ;  he 
will  grip  that  in  one  hand,  and  with  all  the  energy  he  has  left 
he  will,  with  the  other  hand,  pour  the  fiery  draught  down  his 
throat,  and  dig  his  teeth  |  ^ 

into   the   lemon,  or   what-  1  j  ife^  fill  1]  | 

ever  it  may  be,  to  enable 
him    to    keep    the    liquor      •'///! 


doivn.  Then  he  will 
sit  quite  still.  Do 
not  speak  to  him 
now.  He  wants  to 
be  perfectly  quiet 
now.  For  what? 
He  is  waiting  for  the 
effect.  That  is  what 
he  wants,  and  it  soon 

comes.  The  fiery  fluid  starts  the  stagnant  blood  in  the  ves- 
sels of  his  diseased  stomach,  and  he  feels  better.  See,  his  eyes 
are  clearer.  Instead  of  that  pallid,  pasty  hue,  there  is  a  flush 
on  his  face,  there  is  a  little  perspiration.  He  was  burning  hot 
before,  but  he  feels  better  now.  "  Ah,  I  feel  better.  What 
a  fool  I  was  just  now.  I  had  some  thought  of  jumping  into 
the  river.  Let  teetotalers  say  what  they  like ;  a  glass  of 


HE   GRIPS   THE    GLASS   AGAIN.' 


SATELLITES  OF  SATAN.  403 

spirits  is  the  poor  man's  friend  in  the  morning  when  he 
feels  badly.  I  feel  all  right  now." 

It  is  but  a  momentary  experience ;  the  liquor  fiend  has 
done  its  work;  it  has  started  the  stagnant  blood.  Now 
conies  the  reaction;  the  effect  of  the  stimulus  is  passing.  Oh, 
if  he  could  only  hold  it !  It  is  going.  It  has  been  but  a 
brief  gratification.  Now  he  has  what  drunkards  call  "  dead 
liquor"  in  him,  and  that  is  so  awful.  The  appetite  is 
aroused.  He  will  have  more  liquor  now,  will  have  it,  though 
he  should  trample  on  the  upturned  face  of  his  only  child  to 
obtain  it. 

Stop  him  now  if  you  can.  The  appetite  is  aroused.  All 
the  powers  of  earth  —  I  was  going  to  say,  of  heaven,  —  can- 
not stop  him.  That  is  the  gratification  the  drunkard  wants. 
And  every  moderate  drinker  who  drinks  for  the  stimulus 
drinks  on  the  self-same  principle,  though  in  a  lesser  degree. 
These  are  the  results  we  seek  to  prevent. 

Intoxicating  liquor  is  deceptive  in  its  nature,  and  it  does 
seem  to  me  sometimes  as  if  Satan  himself  had  no  power  on 
earth  that  was  doing  his  work  so  effectually  as  this.  We 
might  almost  fancy  him  seated  on  his  high  and  burning 
throne  in  Pandemonium,  crowned  with  a  coronet  of  everlast- 
ing fire,  calling  around  him  his  satellites  and  asking  each  to 
show  his  power  to  bring  men  to  that  awful  abode  and  to 
enlist  recruits  for  perdition.  We  may  imagine  Mammon,  the 
meanest  of  all  the  gods,  standing  up  and  saying :  "  Send  me. 
I  can  send  men  from  their  homes  across  the  burning  desert 
or  the  trackless  ocean,  to  fight,  and  dig  in  the  earth  for  yellow 
dust.  I  can  so  harden  the  heart  that  the  cry  of  the  widow 
and  the  fatherless  shall  be  unheard.  I  can  so  seal  up  every 
avenue  of  human  affection  that  the  heart  of  my  victim  shall 
become  as  hard  as  the  metal  he  loves,  and  in  his  death  strug- 
gle he  will  clutch  closer  and  closer  to  his  heart  the  bag  of 
25 


404  A  HOKRIBLE  MONSTER. 

gold,  which  is  the  only  god  he  ever  worshipped."  Belial, 
filthiest  of  all  the  gods,  next  proclaims  his  power.  Then 
the  Destroyer  asserts  his  claim ;  he  holds  war,  pestilence,  and 
famine  in  his  hand,  and  makes  men,  whose  trade  it  shall 
be  to  deface  God's  image,  rank  themselves  in  hostile  array, 
and  hurry  each  other  shrieking,  unshrouded,  into  another 
world. 

Then  all  is  silent,  and  we  may  imagine  a  mighty,  rumbling 
sound,  at  which  hell  quakes,  and  far  off  in  the  distance  is  seen, 
borne  upon  the  fiery  tide,  a  monstrous  being, — his  hair  a 
mass  of  snakes  matted  together  with  blood,  his  face  besmeared 
with  human  gore.  He  rises  half  his  length,  and  the  waves 
dashing  against  his  breast  fall  back  in  a  shower  of  fiery  spray. 
"Who  art  thou?"  "I  am  an  earth-born  spirit.  I  heard 
your  proclamation  and  I  have  come.  Send  me.  I  will  turn 
the  hand  of  the  father  against  the  mother,  the  mother  against 
the  child,  the  husband  against  the  wife.  I  will  wrap  in  my 
cerement  the  young  man  in  the  pride  of  his  manliness,  and 
wither  him.  I  will  make  that  fair  young  girl  such  a  thing 
that  the  vilest  wretch  shall  shrink  from  her  in  disgust.  I 
will  do  more.  I  will  so  deceive  them  that  f;he  mother  shall 
know  that  I  destroyed  her  first-born,  and  yet  offer  me  her 
second.  The  father  shall  know  that  I  destroyed  the  hope  of 
his  house,  and  yet  lift  the  deadly  draught  to  the  lips  of  others. 
Governors  shall  know  how  I  have  sapped  the  roots  of  states,, 
and  yet  spread  over  me  the  robe  of  their  protection.  Legis- 
lators shall  know  the  crime  and  misery  I  cause,  but  shall  still 
shield  and  encourage  me.  Ministers  shall  know  that  I  have 
torn  the  surplice  from  the  shoulders  of  many  who  have  stood 
in  the  holy  place,  and  hurled  them  in  the  dust,  and  some  of 
them  shall  plead  for  me.  In  heathen  lands  I  shall  be  called 
fire-water,  spirit  of  the  Devil ;  but  in  Christendom  men  shall 
call  me  c  a  good  creature  of  God.'  "  All  hell  resounds  with  a 


AN  UNCOMPROMISING  FIGHT.  4Q5 

shout,  and  Satan  exclaims,  "  Come  up  hither,  and  take  a  seat 
on  the  throne  till  we  hear  your  name."  As  he  mounts  to  the 
throne,  the  spirit  shouts  aloud,  "  My  name  is  Alcohol  I "  And 
the  name  is  shouted  in  every  part  of  hell,  and  the  cry  is 
raised,  "Go  forth  and  the  benison  of  the  pit  go  with  you." 
It  does  seem  to  me  that  no  power  on  earth  is  so  deceptive. 
No  man,  as  I  have  already  said,  ever  intended  to  become 
intemperate.  Thousands  are  dying  to-day,  —  the  poor, 
shrieking  spirits  flying  wildly  into  eternity,  every  one  of 
which  drank  the  first  glass  with  no  intention  of  becoming  a 
drunkard. 

Young  men,  we  are  striving,  God  helping  us,  to  go  like 
divers  into  the  depths ;  for  many  bright  and  beautiful  pearls 
are  found  hidden  under  the  black  rocks  of  intemperance. 
Many  have  been  brought  up  that  are  now  shining  with  the 
hues  of  the  Christian  graces.  And  though  we  do  not  affirm 
that  our  principle  is  to  entirely  reform  and  regenerate  a  man, 
we  are  waging,  by  this  instrumentality,  warfare  against  this 
one  sin ;  because,  ruinous  as  are  its  effects,  mentally  and  mor- 
ally, it  is  also  a  physical  evil  to  be  removed  by  physical  means. 
And  we  shall  succeed,  though  neither  you  nor  I  may  see  the 
day.  I  sometimes  think  that  the  grass  is  now  in  the  sod 
which  is  to  wave  over  my  grave,  but  what  of  that  ?  Shall  I 
not  sow  and  plant  and  water  and  pray,  though  there  be  not  a 
blade  of  grass  in  the  sand  to  cheer  my  sight?  If  the  enter- 
prise be  a  righteous  one,  it  is  in  God's  hands.  We  shall  work, 
toil,  labor,  and  pray.  Yes,  pray.  I  pray  that,  when  death 
comes  to  me,  he  may  come  while  the  harness  is  on,  while  I 
am  battling  for  the  right  against  a  hard,  black-hearted  in- 
iquity. We  fight,  sure  and  certain  of  success.  Some  will 
say,  "Do  you  really  believe  that  intemperance  will  ever  dis- 
appear?" Yes.  His  will  is  to  be  "done  in  earth  as  it  is  in 
heaven,"  and  I  know  when  His  will  shall  be  done  on  earth, 


406  I>0  WHAT  YOU  CAN. 

there  will  not  be  a  dram-shop,  nor  a  drunkard  on  the  face 
of  the  whole  earth.  Oh,  ydung  man,  is  there  nothing  attrac- 
tive in  this  enterprise  ?  You  say,  "  If  I  wanted  to  serve  you, 
there  is  not  much  I  can  do."  Do  what  you  can.  It  was  said 
of  old  in  approval  of  one,  "  She  hath  done  what  she  could." 
You  remember  reading  that  Andrew  followed  our  Saviour; 
but  you  do  not  read  that  he  made  very  great  speeches,  or 
preached  many  eloquent  sermons,  or  that  he  gathered  the 
people  about  him  in  a  multitude ;  but  you  read  that  Andrew 
went  and  called  Peter,  and  Peter  stood  up,  and  three  thous- 
and were  converted  in  one  day.  You  have  influence  to  save 
some  poor  soul,  to  bring  him  up  from  the  depths.  You  may 
be  instrumental  in  setting  up  some  great  reformer.  And  the/ 
blessing  of  God  and  the  people  will  rest  upon  you. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


WHO   IS  MY  NEIGHBOR?  —  LIFE  IN    THE    BACK    STEEETS   OF 
NEW  YORK — VOICES  FROM  THE   SLUMS. 

Fast  Young  Men  —  Seeing  a  Little  of  Life  —  A  Sea  Captain's  Story  —  Effects 
of  One  Glass  of  Grog — A  Young  Man's  Story  —  A  Son's  Hand  Stained 
with  Blood  !—  "Out,  Damned  Spot  "  —  What  is  a  True  Gentleman  ?  —  A 
Letter-Carrier's  Story — Calling  Her  Neighbor  a  "Hindewidual" — "I 
Ups  with  a  Pail  of  Water,"  etc.  —  Leaders  of  Society —Women  Who  Fol- 
low Them —  John  Pounds,  the  Portsmouth  Cobbler  —  Noble  Women  — 
Clara  Barton's  Self-sacrifice  and  Heroism  —  The  Iron  Cross  of  Germany  — 
The  "Old  Brewery"  in  New  York  —  Murderer' s  Alley  —  What  a  Police- 
man Told  Me  — A  Dreadful  Locality  —  Human  Fiends —Stripping  a 
Corpse  and  Selling  the  Grave  Clothes  —  Raising  the  Money  to  Buy  the 
Place— A  Memorable  Meeting  in  Old  Tripler  Hall  — A  Street  Scene  in 
New  York  —  Little  Mary  Morrison.  * 


VERY  young  man  has  ambi- 
tion. There  is  no  young  man 
who  does  not  intend  to  make 
his  position  next  year  higher 
than  it  is  this  year.  You  are 
looking  forward  to  something 
better.  You  desire  to  be 
inly.  What  is  it  to  be  be  manly, 
brave,  to  be  noble  ?  There  is 
class  of  young  men  who  think  that 
>  be  manly  is  to  swear,  swagger,  and 
trample  on  the  decencies  of  human  life,  to  smoke,  drink,  gam- 
ble, and  drive  a  fast  horse.  They  consider  it  manly  to  toss  off 
their  glass  "  like  a  man,"  and  swear  "  like  a  man."  Are  these 
manly  young  men?  We  call  them  "fast  young  men."  Now 
there  is  not  in  this  world  a  more  contemptible  set  of  men  than 

407 


408  SEEING  A  LITTLE  OF  LIFE. 

"  fast  young  men."  It  requires  neither  genius,  education,  nor 
intellect,  to  drink,  smoke,  swear,  or  drive  a  fast  horse.  Give 
the  materials  to  the  biggest  lunatic  in  an  insane  asylum,  and 
he  will  do  all  these  things  as  well  as  the  best  "fast  young 
man  "  you  have.  We  are  brave  —  when  ?  We  are  brave  when 
we  overcome  that  which  threatens  to  overwhelm  us.  Young 
men,  we  are  heroes  when  we  are  able  to  chain  some  cherished 
desire,  and  to  say  to  some  powerful  passion,  "  Be  still !  I  am 
your  master."  To  be  bold  against  an  enemy  is  common  to 
the  brute.  Man's  prerogative  is  to  be  bold  against  himself,  to 
conquer  his  own  lusts  and  wicked  ambitions  and  fancies  in  the 
sacred  name  of  God.  That  is  to  be  noble,  that  is  to  be  brave 
and  manly. 

The  excuses  young  men  give  for  entering  into  dissipation 
are  various ;  but  they  are  usually  summed  up  in  this,  —  that 
they  "  must  see  a  little  of  life."  Why,  my  young  friend,  has 
not  God  spread  out  before  you,  in  His  magnificent  bound- 
lessness of  wealth,  everything  that  can  satisfy  your  noblest 
nature  ?  You  want  to  see  life ;  you  desire  to  indulge  in  for- 
bidden "luxuries,"  presuming  that  you  can  "touch  pitch  and 
not  be  defiled." 

Young  men  begin  to  use  intoxicating  liquors  with  no  in- 
tention, desire,  or  expectation  of  being  injured  by  them.  The 
moderate  drinker  supposes  that,  because  he  does  not  get  in- 
toxicated, drink  is  doing  him  no  harm. 

A  captain  of  a  vessel  trading  between  Liverpool  and  New 
York  spoke  to  me  as  follows :  "  Mr.  Gough,  I  never  was  in- 
toxicated in  my  life,  never;  and  yet  I  have  mourned  and 
repented  over  years  of  excess."  "I  don't  understand  you." 
"  I  repeat,  I  never  was  drunk  in  my  life ;  and  yet  I  have 
mourned  over  years  of  excess."  "  Well,  how  do  you  explain 
that?"  "I  think  I  can.  When  at  sea  I  always  took  a 
glass  of  grog  after  my  dinner,  that  was  all.  I  used  to  mix  it 


A  SEA  CAPTAIN'S  PRIDE.  499 

pretty  stiff ;  and  I  liked  it.  It  seemed  to  do  me  good.  After 
taking  it  I  would  come  on  deck  and  be  a  little  sociable  with 
my  passengers,  and  a  little  more  agreeable  with  my  officers ; 
and  then  I  would  walk  the  deck.  None  but  those  who  have 
commanded  a  noble  clipper  can  have  any  idea  of  the  conscious- 
ness of  power  a  man  feels  as  he  walks  the  quarter-deck. 
He  knows  4 1  am  master  here.'  Often  when  I  have  come  on 
deck  when  a  heavy  gale  was  blowing  and  a  pretty  rough 
sea  rolling,  I  'd  say  to  myself,  c  This  is  grand !  She  works 
like  a  beauty  !  This  is  magnificent !  How  she  dips  into  it ! 
I  have  always  had  the  ambition  to  make  the  fastest  pas- 
sage on  record  ;  perhaps  I  shall  some  day.  There  's  a  pretty 
good  gale  of  wind,  and  we  are  making  good  headway;  I 
think  she  might  bear  a  little  more  canvas.'  Then  I  would 
order  the  mate  to  send  the  men  aloft  to  shake  the  reefs  out 
of  the  foretopsail.  The  mate  would  stand  and  look  as  the 
men  ascended  the  ratlines,  and  he  would  put  his  hand  upon 
the  stanchions  and  gaze  up  as  the  vessel  felt  the  press  of  sail. 
The  mast  would  bend,  and  the  vessel's  head  would  dive 
almost  under  water,  and  I  would  still  walk  the  deck,  say- 
ing, '  This  is  grand !  I  shall  make  the  fastest  passage  yet. 
She  works  gloriously.  Ah !  that 's  a  header  for  her ;  how 
she  dives  into  it ! '  Presently  the  influence  of  the  grog 
would  pass  away,  and  then  I  would  look  up  aloft  and  see 
how  every  rope  was  strained,  and  would  perhaps  turn  to  the 
mate  and  say,  4  It 's  getting  rather  dirty  weather  to  the  wind- 
ward; we  shall  have  a  nasty  night.  Send  the  men  aloft, 
and  close-reef  the  foretopsail,  and  make  everything  snug 
for  the  night.'  Under  the  influence  of  one  glass  of  grog 
I  would  spread  sail  enough  to  drive  the  bows  of  the  vessel 
under  the  water;  and  when  the  influence  of  the  grog 
passed  away  I  would  prudently  take  in  sail  and  make  things 
safe  ! 


410  A  SOLDIER'S   MISFORTUNE. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  I  believe  that  many  a  good  ship,  with 
passengers,  cargo,  and  crew  has  foundered  at  sea  through 
the  influence  of  one  glass  of  grog  on  the  brain  of  her 
captain." 

Now,  sitting  at  home  in  safety,  you  may  call  that  modera- 
tion, but  on  board  that  ship  you  would  not ;  you  would  call 

it  DRINKING  TO  EXCESS. 

A  most  unfortunate  circumstance  occurred  when  I  was  in 
Halifax,  Nova  Scotia.  A  sergeant  of  a  regiment  in  the  cita- 
del, who  was  within  six  months  of  his  discharge,  and  who 
would  have  been  entitled  to  a  good-conduct  pension,  got 
drunk,  and  drew  a  weapon  upon  a  superior  officer.  In 
view  of  his  previous  excellent  conduct,  the  court-martial 
so  far  remitted  his  sentence  that  he  was  only  degraded 
to  the  ranks  and  put  into  the  kitchen  as  one  of  the  cooks. 
Four  days  after  that  sentence  was  pronounced,  he  hung 
himself.  He  told  one  of  his  comrades  he  knew  noth- 
ing of  what  he  did  after  he  had  taken  his  first  glass. 
Now,  moderate  drinkers,  or  those  who  call  themselves  so, 

BEWARE  ! 

One  other  fact,  —  and  I  deal  in  facts.  A  young  man  said 
to  me,  "  Mr.  Gough,  I  never  was  intoxicated,  or  anything  like 
it,  but  once  in  my  life, —  never ;  and  on  the  occasion  to  which  I 
refer  I  was  not  so  far  intoxicated  but  that  I  knew  everything 
that  occurred.  I  had  been  with  some  young  companions,  and 
after  reaching  home  I  ascended  the  stairs  whistling.  As  I 
went  up  towards  the  top  of  the  house  —  my  room  being  at  the 
very  top  —  I  saw  the  open  door  of  a  room  occupied  by  a  ser- 
vant-girl. I  went  in.  I  never  should  have  gone  if  I  had  not 
been  drinking.  I  was  not  just  right.  The  girl  screamed. 
My  mother  came  up,  and  said,  '  George,  my  son,  I  am  ashamed 
of  you.'  I  just  shut  my  fist  and  struck  my  mother  a  terrific 
blow  in  the  mouth.  This  hand  was  stained  with  my  mother's 


TRUE   GENTLEMEN. 


411 


blood  !  And  now,  sir,  looking  at  that  hand,  I  say  sometimes, 
as  Shakespeare  makes  Lady  Macbeth  say,  4  Out,  damned  spot ! ' 
And  I  would  willingly  have  that  hand  cut  off  at  the  wrist 
if  I  could  only  forget  that  blow  given  while  under  the  influ- 
ence of  liquor,  —  the  first  and  the  last  time  I  was  ever 
intoxicated." 

Our  appeal  is  to  young  men.     We  want  you  to  be  manly. 

There  is  nothing  that 
dissipates  manliness 
like  the  drink.  We 
want  you  to  be  men, 
to  be  noble  men,  to  be 
free  from  every  debas- 
ing habit,  to  be  gen- 
tlemen. What  is  a 
gentleman  ?  A  true 
gentleman  is  noble, 
truthful,  chivalrous, 
pure  in  speech  and  in 
life.  A  true  gentle- 
man inspires  the  fear 
of  all  bad  men;  he  is 
admired  by  all  good 

men.  In  the  presence  of  a  true  gentleman  none  dare  say  a 
mean,  low,  ribald,  or  contemptible  thing.  Brave  men  love  a 
true  gentleman,  feeling  themselves  nerved  to  do  their  duty 
better.  Cowards  slip  away  from  his  presence  like  bats  and 
owls  before  the  sunlight.  Be  a  gentleman  !  High  birth  does 
not  constitute  a  gentleman.  A  man  may  have  a  pedigree  as 
long  as  that  of  the  Scotchman  who,  when  engaged  in  a  dis- 
pute about  his  long  line  of  ancestors,  boasted,  "The  Mac- 
phersons  were  in  the  ark  with  Noah  ! "  "  Hoot  toot,  mon  !  " 
replied  the  other  fellow,  "the  Cam'ells  had  a  boat  o' 


A   HAND    STAINED   WITH  BLOOD. 


412  A  TENDER-HEARTED  LETTER  CARRIER. 

their  ain ! "  I  say  a  man  may  have  a  pedigree  as  long  as 
either  of  these  disputants,  and  yet  be  mean  and  worth- 
less. 

Family  lineage  cannot  perpetuate  gentlemen.  There  are 
many  families  who  are  very  much  like  a  hill  of  potatoes ;  the 
best  of  them  are  underground.  Wealth  cannot  perpetuate 
gentlemen.  A  man  may  possess  millions,  and  yet  be  a 
wretched,  miserly,  contemptible  screw,  and  no  gentleman; 
while  another,  who  may  have  battled  for  his  daily  bread 
from  infancy  to  old  age,  may  possess  the  elements  which 
constitute  the  true  gentleman.  Many  who  have  labored  among 
the  poor  and  the  lowly,  among  those  whom  the  world  terms 
"outcasts,"  have  discovered  germs  of  the  finest  sensibility, 
of  the  highest  nobility  of  character,  and  manliest  heroism 
among  them. 

A  letter-carrier  said  to  a  gentleman,  who  related  the 
incident  to  me  :  "  Ah,  sir,  we  letter-carriers  are  n't  always  the 
most  welcome  people.  I  have  carried  a  letter  to  a  door,  and 
have  seen  the  lady,  when  she  came  to  take  it,  shiver  and 
turn  white  on  receiving  the  black-edged  envelope;  and  at 
such  a  time  as  that,  sir,  I  always  takes  off  my  hat.  She  don't 
see  it,  and  it  don't  do  her  no  good,  but  somehow  or  other  I 
always  feel  a  little  better  for  just  lifting  my  hat  on  such  an 
occasion  as  that."  That  is  one  of  the  elements  that  consti- 
tute a  true  gentleman. 

But  there  is  a  class  of  persons  to  whom  indifference  is  the 
test  of  high  breeding.  According  to  their  idea,  if  you  educate 
a  man  to  the  insensibility  of  a  post,  you  make  him  a  perfect 
gentleman ;  if  you  cultivate  the  heart  out  of  a  young  woman, 
and  make  her  seemingly  as  pulseless  as  a  turnip,  she  is  the  lady 
to  perfection.  Some  people  have  strange  ideas  of  what  con- 
stitutes a  lady  or  a  gentleman.  A  woman  was  brought  before 
a  police  court  one  day,  and  said :  "  Me  and  another  lady  was 


SOCIAL  SETS  AND  CIRCLES. 


413 


a-having  a  few  words,  and  she  called  me  a  4  hindewidual,'  and 
I  ups  with  a  pail  of  water  and  chucked  it  all  over  her ;  and 
that  began  the  row."  Me  and  another  lady  !  The  following 
notice  was  once  put  up  over  a  show :  "  No  lady  or  gentleman 
admitted  to  this  exhibition  in  a  state  of  intoxication."  Once 
when  I  was  in  St.  Louis  I  saw  a  handbill  on  the  wall :  "  One 
hundred  rats  to  be  killed  by  one 
dog  in  ten  minutes.  None  but  gen- 
tlemen are  expected  to  be  present 
on  the  occasion." 

Now  we  appeal  to  the  respecta- 
bility, the  Christianity  that  is  not 
with  us  in  this  temperance  move- 
ment. Why  do  we  ask  you  to 
give  up  that  which  is  to  you,  ac- 
cording to  your  idea  of  it,  an  inno- 
cent gratification?  On  what 
ground  do  we  ask  you?  I  will 
tell  you.  "Thou  shalt  love  the 
Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart, 
with  all  thy  mind,  and  with  all 
thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy 
strength ; "  and  the  second  commandment  is  like  unto  it, 

"Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself"     "On  these  two" 

not  on  the  one  or  the  other  —  "  hang  all  the  law  and  the 
prophets."  Now,  it  is  for  the  sake  of  your  neighbors  that 
we  ask  you  to  abstain.  Well,  "  Who  is  my  neighbor  ?  " 

There  are  some  persons  who  have  no  neighbors  out  of 
their  visiting  circle.  Some  seek  for  their  neighbors  on  the 
church  books,  and  they  have  no  others.  The  fact  is,  we  are 
divided  into  sets  and  circles,  and  the  difficulty  is  to  penetrate 
these  sets  and  circles.  We  move  in  that  circle  and  revolve 
in  this  circle,  and  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  any  other 


M 


HINDEWIDUAL.' 


414  A.  CELEBRATED   COBBLER. 

circle.  And  each  circle  has  its  leader ;  Mrs.  Harris  leads  this, 
Mrs.  Smith  leads  that,  Mrs.  What  's-her-name  leads  another, 
and  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Thingamy  leads  another.  The  members 
of  these  circles  revolve  around  their  leaders.  They  have  no 
minds  of  their  own,  only  such  as  their  leaders  permit  them  to 
have.  They  have  no  will  of  their  own,  but  are  entirely  sub- 
servient to  the  will  of  their  leaders.  They  are  very  much 
like  the  toys  children  play  with.  You  have  often  seen  them. 
They  are  pasteboard  men,  and  when  a  string-  is  pulled  they 
are  set  in  motion  this  way  and  that  way ;  and  so  Mrs.  Harris 
pulls  her  string  this  way,  and  her  circle  responds ;  Mrs.  Smith 
pulls  her  string  that  way ;  Mrs.  What  's-her-name  pulls  her 
string  the  other  way;  and  so  it  goes  on,  each  circle  respond- 
ing to  the  will  of  its  leader.  And  these  people  call  them- 
selves independent  thinkers !  Why,  if  there  is  a  contribution 
or  subscription  required  for  any  person  or  cause  whatever, 
those  who  solicit  aid  do  not  come  to  you.  You  are  of  no 
consequence  whatever.  It  is  the  leader  of  your  circle  to 
whom  they  appeal  first,  and  having  obtained  her  subscription, 
then  they  come  to  you.  You  do  not  ask,  "  What  is  this 
money  for  ?  "  It  may  be  for  flannel  waistcoats  for  the  Hot- 
tentots, or  pocket-handkerchiefs  for  a  lot  of  Kaffirs,  for  all 
that  you  know  about  it.  You  say,  "  Is  Mrs.  Harris's  name 
down  ?  "  "  Yes."  "  Then  I  will  put  my  name  down."  And 
you  have  done  your  duty  after  the  fashion  of  the  gospel 
according  to  Mrs.  Harris. 

Now,  who  is  my  neighbor  ?  Who  are  the  grandest  men 
and  women  the  world  has  ever  seen?  Those  who  have 
sought  for  their  neighbors  outside  of  their  own  circle  of 
society.  The  cobbler  at  Portsmouth,  England,  found  his 
neighbors  on  the  wharf, — wretched,  ragged,  homeless  chil- 
dren. He  coaxed  them  with  roasted  potatoes  to  come  into 
his  shop,  that  he  might  teach  them  spelling,  reading,  how  to 


RECORD  OF  A  NOBLE  LIFE.  415 

mend  their  clothes,  and  how  to  cook  their  food;  and  to-day 
the  greatest  peer  of  England  is  not  ashamed  to  preside  at  the 
anniversary  meeting  of  one  of  these  ragged  schools  at  the 
East  End  of  London.  Yes,  in  Portsmouth  they  erected  a 
monument  to  the  memory,  and  kept  the  birthday,  of  poor 
John  Pounds,  the  Portsmouth  cobbler. 

Florence  Nightingale  searched  for  her  neighbors  amongst 
the  bruised  and  battered  soldiers  of  the  Crimea ;  Mary 
Carpenter  found  her  neighbors  among  the  city  arabs ;  Mrs. 
Wightman  found  her  neighbors  among  the  drunkards  of 
Butchers'  Row,  Shrewsbury  ;  Mrs.  Bayly  found  her  neighbors 
among  the  denizens  of  the  Kensington  potteries ;  Sarah  Pellat 
found  her  neighbors  among  the  Californian  gold-diggers ; 
Miss  Dix  found  her  neighbors  in  the  asylums  for  the  insane. 

I  have  held  in  my  hand  that  whrch  few  Americans  have 
held  in  theirs,  the  Iron  Cross  of  Germany.  As  I  held  it,  that 
little  black  cross  on  its  silver  bed,  I  remembered  that  money 
could  not  purchase  it,  birth  could  not  procure  it.  It  can  be 
obtained  only  in  reward  for  the  very  highest  order  of  heroic 
service.  Then  I  held  in  my  hand  The  Golden  Cross  of 
Remembrance.  Then  I  held  in  my  hand  The  Red  Cross  of 
Geneva.  Who  owned  them?  A  feeble  woman  who  has 
often  sat  at  my  own  table.  The  Emperor  of  Germany  gave 
her  the  Iron  Cross  of  Germany.  The  Court  of  Germany  gave 
her  the  Golden  Cross  of  Remembrance.  The  Grand  Duchess 
of  Baderi  placed  upon  her  breast,  with  her  own  hands,  the 
Red  Cross  of  Geneva.  Why  ?  During  our  war  she  devoted 
her  life  to  the  care  of  sick  and  suffering  soldiers.  In  later 
years,  when  she  heard  of  the  Franco-German  war,  she  started 
at  once  for  the  field,  supported  by  her  own  private  means. 
It  is  reported  (and  I  suppose  it  is  true  —  although  when  you 
speak  of  royalty  you  ought  to  be  sure,  and  accordingly  say 
that  it  is  reported)  that  the  Queen,  her  gracious  Majesty, 


416  THE   "OLD  BREWERY." 

sent  to  America,  through  one  of  her  officials,  for  the  Reports 
of  the  Sanitary  and  Christian  Commissions  for  the  use  of  her 
daughter,  the  Crown  Princess  of  Germany.  In  those  Reports 
was  found  this  lady's  name.  "Telegraph!"  And  all  I  know 
is  that  she  was  telegraphed  for,  and  that  she  could  not  be 
found  in  America.  Where  did  they  find  her  ?  She  had  al- 
ready joined  the  German  army.  She  had  gone  right  through 
the  lines.  Along  with  the  first  eighteen  officers,  she  climbed 
the  abatis  and  entered  the  city  of  Strasburg,  to  bind  up  the 
wounds  of  the  women  and  children  who  had  been  torn  and 
shattered  by  shot  and  shell.  There  she  worked  with  the 
Crown  Princess  and  the  Grand  Duchess,  establishing  sewing- 
circles,  and  directing  women  who  were  employed  in  making 
garments.  When  I  was  in  Strasburg  I  took  particular  occa- 
sion to  inquire  if  the  citizens  remembered  her.  Oh  yes,  they 
remembered  her  well.  When  her  work  was  done  there,  she 
took  ten  thousand  garments  and  went  to  Paris ;  she  waited 
outside  the  walls  till  the  Commune  fell,  and  then  she  went  in 
to  clothe  the  naked  and  succor  those  who  were  in  distress  and 
need.  America  should  consider  it  a  high  privilege  to  honor 
her  heroine,  Clara  Barton. 

Ah,  these  are  God's  heroes  and  heroines  —  they  who  seek 
for  their  neighbors  outside  of  their  own  circle  of  society. 
When  young  men  understand  this  matter,  then  they  will 
work.  I  will  give  you  another  fact. 

There  was  a  meeting  held  in  New  York  city  for  the  pur- 
pose of  raising  funds  — for  what?  But  few  of  you,  perhaps, 
remember  what  the  "Old  Brewery"  was,  in  New  York. 
Dickens,  in  his  "American  Notes,"  has  given,  I  believe,  a 
description  of  it.  It  was  one  of  the  most  dangerous  places  in 
the  city.  Moral  and  social  reformers  could  do  nothing  there, 
nothing  at  all.  There  was  a  narrow  passage  running  between 
this  Old  Brewery  and  some  broken-down  buildings,  called 


A  MEMORABLE  MEETING.  419 

"  Murderer's  Alley ;  "  and  policemen  would  go  up  that  alley 
well  armed  and  always  on  the  alert.  One  of  the  members  of 
the  police  force  said  to  me,  "  There  have  been  known  to  take 
place  here,  in  one  house,  twenty-two  deaths  in  one  month, 
without  a  funeral.  Every  corpse  was  taken  to  the  hospital, 
sold,  and  the  proceeds  spent  in  dissipation.  We  tried  all  we 
could  to  break  up  the  gang.  No,  we  could  not  do  it.  Ladies 
helped  us;  young  men  helped  us;  but  nothing  could  be 
done.  So  we  thought  we  would  find  out  when  there  was  a 
corpse  in  any  of  the  rooms,  and  whenever  we  found  there 
was  one,  we  would  go  in  and  decently  shroud  it ;  and,  sir,  in 
more  than  one  instance,  before  we  could  get  out  of  the  house, 
the  grave-clothes  have  been  torn  from  the  corpse,  and  we 
have  seen  people  at  the  corner  of  the  street  selling  those 
shrouds  as  old  rags,  at  four  cents  a  pound,  for  the  purpose  of 
procuring  whiskey.  We  could  do  nothing  with  the  human 
fiends  in  that  place.  Well,  the  ladies  undertook  the  matter 
—  God  bless  the  ladies!  When  they  undertake  to  do  any- 
thing, they  generally  do  it. 

"  When  she  will,  she  will,  you  may  depend  on 't, 
And  when  she  won't,  she  won't,  and  there 's  an  end  on't." 

I  do  not  mean  that  women  are  proverbially  obstinate,  but 
they  are  proverbially  persevering.  The  ladies  made  up  their 
minds  that,  as  they  could  not  reform  the  place,  they  would  de- 
stroy it.  They  said,  "  We  will  destroy  the  place.  We  will 
buy  it ;  and  then  we  will  pull  it  down,  and  build  a  Mission 
House  on  its  site." 

To  raise  the  money  we  held  a  meeting  in  old  Tripler 
Hall.  .It  held  an  audience  of  about  three  thousand.  Mr. 
Havemeyer,  then  mayor  of  the  city,  presided.  Dr.  Theodore 
Cuyler  made  a  speech.  Horace  Greeley  made  a  speech.  I 
was  to  speak  at  the  close.  The  speeches  were  rather  long, 


420  LITTLE  MARY  MORRISON. 

and  I  was  very  much  interested  in  some  seventy  or  eighty 
children  who  were  ranged  on  the  platform  to  sing.  I  particu- 
larly noticed  one  little  creature,  a  very  pretty  child.  Perhaps 
if  she  had  not  been  nice-looking  I  should  not  have  called  her 
to  my  side,  for  we  are  always  attracted  by  beauty  everywhere, 
and  it  is  right  we  should  be.  I  called  this  pretty  little  girl 
to  my  side,  and  said :  — 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"My  name  is  Mary  Morrison." 

"I  used  to  know  a  song  about  little  Mary  Morrison." 

" Did  you?" 

"  Yes.  Now,"  I  said,  "  I  want  to  talk  to  you  a  little  while ; 
but  we  must  not  talk  loud,  because  the  gentlemen  are  speaking. 
So  your  name  is  Mary  Morrison  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Do  you  see  that  woman  down  there  in  the  crowd 
with  a  black  bonnet  on  ?  " 

"There  are  ever  so  many  ladies  there  with  black  bon- 
nets on." 

"  I  don't  mean  a  lady ;  I  mean  my  mother.  My  mother 's 
down  there  in  that  crowd.  My  mother  used  to  get  drunk, 
and  used  to  whip  me,  and  she  used  to  turn  me  out  of  doors ; 
and  my  mother  used  to  be  took  to  the  police  office,  and  I  used 
to  run  in  the  streets.  But  my  mother  goes  to  the  Mission 
Church  now,  and  I  go  to  the  Mission  School ;  and  I  have 
learned  to  read  "  —  and  she  became  so  excited  that  she  began 
to  stammer ;  and  she  began  talking  so  loud  that  I  had  to  say, 
"  Hush,"  to  the  little  thing.  "  I  know  ever  go  many  little 
hymns,  —  nice  hymns,  —  and  I  sing  them.  And  I  've  got 
some  mottoes,  —  did  you  ever  see  any  mottoes  ?  —  red  and 
green  and  yellow  and  blue.  My  mother  is  going  to  have  one 
of  my  mottoes  framed  and  hung  up.  And  I  have  got  a  little 
medal  with  some  blue  ribbon  to  it.  One  of  the  other  girls 
had  yellow,  and  some  one  else  had  green,  and  another  had 


A  STREET  SCENE  IN  NEW  YORK.  421 

red,  and  I  had  blue.  And  I  have  got  the  little  medal  in  a 
box.  Did  you  ever  see  those  pretty  little  boxes  the  jewellers 
have,  with  pink  cotton  in  them  ?  Well,  I  have  wrapped  my 
little  medal  up  in  the  pink  cotton,  and  put  it  in  the  little 
box.  And  there  's  my  mother  looking  at  me  now,"  said  she, 
pointing  down.  "How  do  you  do,  mother?"  I  said,  "Hush, 
my  dear  child." 

The  little  girl  went  to  her  seat,  and  it  was  my  turn  to 
speak.  All  I  could  say  was  this  :  "  Ladies  and  gentlemen, 
some  six  weeks  ago  I  passed  through  the  Five  Points,  near 
the  Old  Brewery.  I  saw  what  appeared  to  be  a  bundle  of 
rags  lying  on  the  curbstone.  A  man  came  up,  and  with  his 
foot  brutally  kicked  it,  and  the  white  arm  of  a  woman  lay 
exposed  out  of  the  bundle  of  rags.  Another  man  pushed  the 
bundle  with  a  stick,  pushed  the  stick  between  the  wretched 
bonnet  and  the  head,  ripped  off  the  bonnet,  and  threw  it  into 
the  middle  of  the  road,  and  the  long  hair  of  a  woman,  not 
twenty  years  old,  streamed  out  into  the  gutter.  Some  police- 
men came  up  with  a  stretcher,  and  carried  the  wretched  woman 
away.  "  Mary  Morrison,  come  here.  Come  here,  Mary."  So 
I  brought  the  little  creature  forward.  She  put  her  finger  on 
her  lip,  and  looked  timidly  at  the  audience.  I  said,  "  Look  at 
this  child  ;  what  is  it  worth  to  save  a  child  like  that  from  such 
a  fate  as  I  have  described  ?  "  The  Mayor  said,  "  I  will  give  a 
hundred  dollars."  And  another,  "  I  will  give  a  hundred  dol- 
lars." And  another,  "  I  '11  give  fifty."  A  gentleman  said, 
"  If  you  are  going  to  contribute  like  that,  we  will  take  sub- 
scriptions now ;  "  and  several  thousand  dollars  were  subscribed 
at  once.  The  money  was  raised,  the  Brewery  was  bought, 
and  the  Mission  House  stands  there  to-day.  That  was  be- 
cause those  in  that  meeting  felt  the  responsibility  resting  upon 
them  of  regarding  their  neighbor  as  they  would  regard  them- 
selves, and  seeking  to  lift  up  the  fallen. 
26 


422  A  LOOK  INTO  THE  FUTURE. 

What  we  want  is  your  aid,  your  influence,  your  co-opera- 
tion in  this  great  work.  And  it  is  a  great  work.  It  is  a 
work  that  is  to  be  successful  by  and  by.  Patience  !  I  am  not 
one  of  those  who  believe  the  bell  is  being  cast  that  will  toll 
out  the  death-knell  of  intemperance  in  a  few  years  from  now. 
Oh  no  !  It  is  a  hard  fight  and  a  long  fight,  a  strong  fight  and 
a  vigorous  fight ;  but  there  is  VICTORY  at  the  end ;  that  is 
sure  !  I  may  not  see  it.  The  children  we  are  training  may 
not  see  it.  But  it  will  come.  By  and  by  the  heroes  who  have 
labored  shall  come  up  over  a  thousand  battle-fields,  waving 
with  bright  grain  that  shall  never  be  crushed  in  the  accursed 
distillery.  By  and  by  they  shall  come  up  through  vineyards, 
under  trellised  vines  of  grapes  hanging  in  all  their  purple 
glory,  never  to  be  pressed  into  that  which  can  debase  human- 
ity. By  and  by  they  shall  come  to  the  last  fire  in  the  last  dis- 
tillery, and  put  it  out.  By  and  by  they  shall  come  to  the  last 
stream  of  liquid  death,  and  seal  it  up  forever.  By  and  by 
they  shall  come  to  the  last  drunkard's  wife,  and  wipe  her  tears 
away.  There  shall  be  victory  by  and  by.  They  shall  come 
to  the  last  neglected  child,  and  lift  him  up  to  stand  where  God 
meant  he  should  stand.  By  and  by  they  shall  come  to  the  last 
drunkard,  and  nerve  him  to  burst  his  burning  fetters  and  make 
a  glorious  accompaniment  to  the  song  of  freedom  by  the  clank- 
ing of  his  broken  chains.  By  and  by  the  triumph  of  this  and 
of  all  great  moral  enterprises  shall  usher  in  the  day  of  the  final 
triumph  of  the  cross  of  Christ.  I  believe  it,  and  for  that  I 
work.  And  when  I  die,  I  pray  God  I  may  die  in  the  harness, 
battling  for  this,  with  the  hope  that  there  is  a  better  da}7  com- 
ing, and  a  prayer,  "  God  speed  the  right !  "  —  ever  praying, 
ever  working,  till  victory  shall  perch  upon  our  banner. 
Then  we  will  lay  our  laurels  at  His  feet,  and  cast  our  crowns 
before  Him,  joining  in  the  mighty  anthem  of  praise  to  Him 
who  hath  subdued  all  things  unto  Himself. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 


WILL  IT  PAY?  —  LIFE'S  OPPORTUNITIES  —  GROTESQUE  SCENES 
AND   AMUSING   STORIES  —  ON   THE  BRINK. 

Men  Who  Cannot  Understand  a  Joke—  "  The  Little  Chap  That  Told  Me  To 
Holler"  — First-class  Stupidity—  "  Comfortably"  Full  — The  Stingy 
Drinker  — Drink's  Direful  Work — Breaking  a  Mother's  Heart  —  Scenes 
in  a  Lunatic  Asylum  —  Raving  Idiots  —  A  Tipsy  Lover — A  Visit  to  the 
Pig-sty  — An  Unlooked-for  Catastrophe  —  Another  Pig  in  the  Pen— "I 
Am  as  Good  as  Any  of  You"  — Fighting  the  Pump  —  An  Unceremonious 
Tip-over — The  Tipsy  Students  —  Decidedly  Muddled  —  Kicking  Each 
Other  Out  of  Bed —A  Grotesque  Scene  —  The  Indian  and  His  Fire- 
water—''Only  This  Once"  — A  Clergyman's  Downfall  — A  Wife's 
Story  —  In  Jail — Reminiscences  of  Forty  Years  Ago  —  An  Appeal  to 
Young  Men  —  Coach-Driving  in  California  —  A  Death-bed  Scene  —  "I 
Can't  Find  the  Brake  "  —  Sowing  Wild  Oats. 


T  depends  a  great  deal  more 
upon  the  temperament  than 
upon  the  strength  of  mind 
or  intellect,  whether,  if  you 
follow  the  drinking  customs 
of  society,  you  become  intem- 
perate. Who  are  the  men 
most  liable  to  become  drunkards  ?  I 
bring  before  you,  for  illustration,  three 
men  of  the  same  class  in  society,  as 
much  alike  as  it  is  possible  for  three 
persons  to  be  who  are  possessed  of  different  temperaments. 
The  first,  cold  and  phlegmatic,  is  little  affected  by  aught 
surrounding  him.  He  never  laughs  at  anything.  A  joke 
must  be  explained  for  him  before  he  can  understand  it.  If 
you  should  tell  him  you  could  not  drive  a  joke  into  him  with 

423 


424 


THREE   CHEERS  FOR  MR.    HENRY.' 


a  sledge-hammer,  he  would  ask,  Do  people  ever  drive  jokes 
into  other  people  with  sledge-hammers  ?  If  he  does  not  un- 
derstand a  joke,  he  will  often  perpetrate  one  on  himself,  like 
the  man  who  was  very  angry  because  some  one  set  fire  to  a 
barn  and  burnt  up  two  cows.  uAny  man,"  he  said,  "who 
would  set  fire  to  a  barn 
and  burn  up  two  cows 
ought  to  be  kicked  to 
death  by  a  jackass  —  and  I 
should  like  to  do  it"  If 
you  tell  him  a  funny  story, 
his  remarks  are  as  funny 
as  the  story  itself.  I  once 
told  a  man  of  this  kind 
one  of  the  best  stories  I 
ever  heard  in  my  life.  It 
was  in  connection  with  a 
political  meeting.  One 
man  in  the  crowd  kept 
shouting,  "  Henry !  Hen- 
ry !  Make  way  for  Mr. 
Henry !  Mr.  Henry  is 
called  for !  "  Every  sub- 
sequent speaker  only  made 
this  man  shout  all  the  loud- 
er, "  Henry  !  Mr.  Henry  is 
called  for!  Three  cheers  for  Mr.  Henry!  Mr.  Henry  is 
wanted  !  "  A  little  man,  amidst  these  calls,  was  introduced 
to  the  platform,  but  still  there  were  cries  of  "  Henry  !  Mr. 
Henry  is  wanted !  "  and  so  on.  At  length  the  chairman  said, 
"  I  wish  that  gentleman  would  keep  still.  It  is  Mr.  Henry 
who  is  now  addressing  the  audience."  "  Henry !  "  said  the 
man,  "  that  ain't  Henry !  That 's  the  little  chap  that  told  me 


THE   LITTLE   CHAP   THAT   TOLD   ME   TO 
HOLLEE." 


THE  MAN  WHO   COULDN'T  SEE  A  JOKE.  425 

to  holler."  I  thought  my  friend  would  be  amused,  but  instead 
of  that  he  asked,  "  What  did  he  tell  him  to  holler  for  ?  " 
And  that  to  me  was  more  funny  than  the  story  itself. 

Such  persons  can  never  repeat  a  joke  correctly.  A  friend 
told  me  that  he  knew  a  gentleman  who  never  could  under- 
stand a  joke,  and  one  of  his  friends  was  constantly  perpetrating 
jokes  on  him.  One  day  he  said,  "  You  are  always  joking  me ; 
now,  the  next  time  yoa  joke,  just  wink,  so  that  I  may  know 
whether  it  is  or  is  not  a  joke."  One  day  he  was  lying  help- 
less with  rheumatism,  when  his  friend  called,  and  said,  "  Sorry 
to  see  you  in  the  stationary  line,"  and  winked.  So  the  poor 
fellow  pondered  on  the  remark,  trying  to  discover  the  joke. 
Another  friend  called,  and  the  invalid  said,  "  See  here,  so-and-so 
has  perpetrated  a  joke  on  me ;  I  know  he  has,  because  he 
winked.  You  see  I  was  ill  in  bed,  and  he  said  he  was  sorry 
to  see  me  keeping  a  book-store.  What  was  the  joke?  " 

If  such  a  man  should  meet  you,  after  a  separation  of  years, 
he  would  not  rush  forward  and  take  you  by  the  hand,  giving 
a  hearty  shake,  nor  slap  you  on  the  back,  with  "  Holloa,  old 
fellow  !  "  but  he  presents  the  tips  of  his  fingers,  and  if  by 
chance  he  gets  his  whole  hand  in  yours,  it  comes  with  a  flap, 
reminding  you  of  a  dead  fish.  These  phlegmatic  people  are 
naturally  conservative  ;  they  are  driven  by  public  sentiment. 
Some  of  them  continue  the  same  from  year  to  year.  They 
are  like  barrel-organs ;  turn  the  crank  and  yon  get  the  same 
tunes  till  the  whole  list  is  played  off,  when  you  may  begin 
again  and  get  exactly  the  same  music  ;  if  you  go  faster,  there 
is  a  quicker  measure  ;  all  depends  on  the  turning  of  the  crank. 
They  will  never  become  drunkards,  for  they  are  moderate  in 
everything.  Give  such  a  man  a  glass  of  liquor,  what -is  the 
effect  ?  He  is  "  comfortable."  Give  him  another,  he  is  "  com<- 
fortable  and  warm,"  and  he  thinks  it  has  done  him  good ;  an- 
other, and  he  is  "  com-fort-a-bler."  By  and  by  his  lower  lip 


426  CLOSE-FISTED  MEN  AND  STINGY  DRINKERS. 

will  drop  over  his  chin,  his  chin  will  rest  on  his  chest,  he  will 
fold  his  arms  and  fall  "  com-fa-blur-r-r  "  to  sleep.  He  will 
wake  up  and  take  another  glass,  and  you  cannot  get  him 
beyond  the  point  of  "  comfortable  "  if  you  fill  him  up.  Now, 
such  a  man  can  go  on  drinking  to  the  day  of  his  death, 
doing  business  keenly  day  in  and  day 
out,  week  in,  week  out ;  and  you  try  to 
beat  him  in  a  trade  if  you  can !  He 
grows  fat  and  puffy  and  red.  The  physi- 
cians tell  us  that  such  men  are  destroying 
their  vital  organs,  but  that  we  have  nothing 
to  do  with  just  now.  There  are  men  com- 
fortably full  every  day  in  the  year  and 
yet  never  drunk. 

Then   there  is  the   stingy,  close-fisted 
man,  whose  entire  philosophy  lies  within 
the  precincts  of   the  multiplication-table 
He  never  has  an  article  of  clothing  that 
fits  him  ;  for  when  he  wants  a  coat,  or  a  hat, 
or  any  other  article   of   clothing,  he  fre- 
quents the  ready-made  shops  and  buys  the 
largest  garment  he  can  get  for  the  money, 
^HS-  that  he  may  have  a  big  pennyworth.     He 
HIS  MONEY'S  WORTH  may  be  able  to  drink  any  given  quantity, 

OF  CLOTHES.  ,  ,  ,  ,         r          ,   . 

but  seldom  gets  drunk,  tor  his  tempera- 
ment prevents  his  parting  with  his  money ;  his  love  of  that  is 
stronger  than  any  love  of  the  drink  can  be  in  him. 

The  third  is  the  young  man  full  of  fire  and  poetry  and 
music,  of  a  nervous  temperament,  easily  excited,  fond  of 
society,  the  life  of  the  company,  the  admiration  of  his  com- 
panions. He  can  sing  a  song,  and  sing  it  well ;  tell  a  good 
story,  and  his  eye  flashes  as  he  makes  the  point  to  it.  He 
will  become  a  drunkard  more  readily  than  the  two  others. 


BLIGHTED  HOPES.  427 

When  he  drinks,  he  enters  the  outer  circle  of  the  whirl- 
pool; round  and  round  he  wheels,  swifter  and  swifter, 
narrower  and  narrower,  until,  at  length,  he  is  drawn  into  the 
awful  vortex. 

It  is  often  remarked  that  there  is  a  famine  of  great  men  in 
our  day.  What  is  one  of  the  causes?  They  are  cut  down 
in  their  youth  by  drunkenness  in  thousands.  Behold  that 
youth  at  college,  the  leader  of  his  class,  the  pride  of  his  tutor, 
the  joy  of  his  parents,  the  one  likely  to 'become  the  ornament 
of  his  age.  Strong  drink  has  taken  hold  of  him  and  done  its 
direful  work,  administered  at  first,  it  may  be,  by  the  hand  of 
friendship  and  of  kindness.  Awfully  fatal  and  mistaken  are 
all  such  expressions  of  friendship  and  of  kindness.  We  ask 
that  mother  what  has  become  of  her  boy.  Behold  her  bowed 
down  with  grief,  her  countenance  the  picture  of  disappointed 
expectation ;  your  question  receives  no  answer  but  a  vacant 
look  of  despair ;  her  heart  is  broken.  You  ask  his  sister  for 
tidings  of  that  brother  whom  she  loved  with  all  a  sister's 
affection,  and  the  answer  is  a  convulsive  sob.  You  turn 
to  the  old  man,  his  father,  who  looked  upon  him  once  with 
a  father's  pride  ;  with  lips  compressed,  and  with  clenched 
hand  as  if  he  would  send  his  nails  through  his  flesh, 
the  gray-haired  sire  turns  away,  and  you  receive  110 
answer.  At  last,  your  inquiry  is  made  of  a  fellow-student. 
"  Noble-hearted  fellow,  sir,  first  in  his  class,  the  soul  of  the 
company,  the  admired  of  his  class-mates.  But  —  the  fact  is 
—  he  took  to  drink,  and  now  no  one  knows  anything  about 
him."  That's  the  fate,  often,  of  thousands  of  young  men 
who  might  have  been  among  the  greatest  men  of  their  day. 

Ah,  you  say,  but  these  men  are  not  noble,  they  are  utterly 
destitute  of  pride,  ambition,  or  even  natural  affection ;  they 
are  simply  brutal.  Can  you  find  a  young  man  who  has  no 
respect  or  love  for  a  good  mother?  When  I  hear  a  man 


428  DEGRADED   TO   THE  LEVEL   OF   THE   BEASTS. 

| 

speak  contemptuously  of  his  mother  I  know  that  either  he  is 
a  bad  man,  or  his  mother  was  a  bad  woman.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  speak  otherwise  than  lovingly  and  with  respect  of  a 
good  mother.  Let  me  say  one  word  that  will  insult  your 
mother,  bring  tears  to  her  eyes,  or  make  her  cheeks  burn 
with  indignation  —  you  will  knock  me  down.  Serve  me 
right !  Let  me  hurt  her  in  person  or  in  feeling,  you  would 
trample  on  me  as  if  I  were  a  rat.  And  yet  many  a  young 
man  is  steadily,  deliberately,  and  wilfully  breaking  his 
mother's  heart.  "  Oh  no,  no,  no !  that  is  all  wrong,"  you 
say,  "a  young  man  wilfully  does  it?  "  There  is  not  a  young 
man  who  is  breaking  the  heart  of  his  mother  but  he  knows 
it;  he  knows  that  her  face  grows  paler,  the  furrows  grow 
deeper,  and  her  hair  grows  whiter.  He  knows  it,  and  yet 
he  will  go  on,  though  he  is  conscious  that  she  lies  awake  at 
night  and  wets  her  pillow  with  tears,  weeping  over  his  way- 
ward life. 

Therefore  we  hate  the  drink  because  of  its  power  to 
paralyze  every  noble  ambition,  dry  up  every  fountain  of 
affection,  and  debase  and  degrade  the  manhood  of  its  victims. 

What  does  a  man  do  when  he  gets  drunk  ?  He  brings 
himself  to  the  level  of  the  slavering  idiot,  or  the  gibbering, 
raving  madman.  Go  into  a  lunatic  asylum,  and  see  that 
man  picking  an  imaginary  thing  from  his  coat  sleeve; 
another  listlessly  gazing  on  nothing;  another  uttering  "the 
loud  laugh  that  speaks  the  vacant  mind " ;  or  yet  another 
raving  in  his  madness ;  how  sad  such  sights !  If  you  are 
grateful  to  God  for  the  possession  of  reason,  your  thanks- 
giving, night  and  morning,  would  be,  "  Father,  I  thank  thee 
that  thou  hast  made  me  a  man,  and  crowned  me  with  the 
noble  faculty  of  reason  and  continued  that  great  blessing  till 
now."  To  the  mere  animal  there  is  no  beauty  in  the  setting 
sun,  there  is  no  loveliness  in  the  flower,  no  glory  in  the  land- 


A  TERRIBLE  TRANSFORMATION.  429 

scape,  no  splendor  in  the  starry  heavens,  no  sublimity  in  the 
thunder's  peal  and  the  lightning's  flash ;  the  animal  raises  its 
dull,  meaningless  eyes,  and  gazes  on  all  the  beauties  and 
orandeur  of  nature  unmoved.  Not  so  with  man.  He  views 
the  glowing  landscape,  the  setting  sun,  or  lifts  his  eyes  to  the 
heavens,  beholding  the  star-studded  sky,  and  sees  and  feels 
the  beauty  and  the  glory  of  the  scene.  The  sense  of  beauty 
is  in  his  soul,  and  to  him  all  creation  is  beautiful. 

When  the  mother  speaks  of  her  babe,  does  she  waste  her 
eloquence  in  descanting  on  his  ruby  lips,  his  pearly  teeth,  his 
blooming,  dimpled  cheek,  his  rounded  forehead?  No,  'tis 
what  he  knows,  what  he  observes,  how  he  imitates ;  it  is  the 
budding  of  his  mind.  The  external  beauties  might  all  be 
there,  and  yet  how  would  that  mother  feel  were  the  beautiful 
infant  that  slumbers  sweetly  in  its  cradle  an  idiot  ?  It  is  in 
the  gem  the  value  lies,  not  in  the  beauty  of  the  casket.  That 
beauty  but  becomes  the  more  terrible  when  the  shrine  is  that 
in  which  there  is  nothing.  God  has  a  right  to  take  from  you 
reason,  and  becloud  your  mind,  and  send  you  forth  a  raving, 
slavering,  silly  thing ;  he  has  a  right  to  lay  his  hand  upon  you 
and  wither  your  intellect.  But  will  anyone  say,  "  I  have  a 
right,  when  I  please,  by  the  use  of  intoxicating  drink,  to 
dethrone  my  reason,  and  transform  myself  into  a  drivelling 
idiot?"  What  if  God  should  say,  "Let  him  alone,  let  him 
stagger  on,  through  the  rest  of  his  life,  what  he  has  chosen  to 
make  himself  by  one  simple  act  of  intoxication."  What  if  he 
should  thus  make  you  always  what  you  have  once  made  your- 
self ?  Can  you  imagine  a  more  horrible  fate  to  come  upon 
you  than  that  ?  It  is  sometimes  said,  "  That  man  is  as  drunk 
as  a  beast."  Such  language  is  a  libel  on  the  brutes.  Man  is 
the  only  animal  that  thus  degrades  himself.  No  brute  beast 
will  step  down  from  the  position  in  which  its  Maker  placed  it, 
and  every  man  who  gets  drunk  does  just  that. 


430 


AX  UNWELCOME   INTRUDER. 


Think  how  contemptibly  silly  some  men  make  themselves, 
when  intoxicated,  by  placing  themselves  in  positions  they  are 
ashamed  of  when  sober.  I  heard  of  one  of  these  young  men 
who  never  would  "  sign  away  his  liberty,"  who  was  paying 
particular  attentions  to  a  young '  lady.  Occasionally  he  would 

call  to  see  her  when  he  was  parti- 
ally intoxicated ;  but  when  so  far 
gone  that  he  dared 
not  ask  for  the 
lady,  he  would 
content  himself 
with  the  company 
of  his  prospective 
father-in-law,  who 
was  a  moderate 
drinker,  and  was 
therefore  a  little 
s  h  o  r  t-sighted  in 
reference  to  the 
habit.  On  one  of 
these  occasions 
the  old  gentle- 
ma  11  told  him 
there  were  a  lot 
of  sheep,  some 
horses,  and  some 
fine  pigs,  that  would  be  given  to  him,  adding,  "I  should 
like  you  to  look  at  the  pigs."  Arrived  at  the  pen  the 
young  man  stooped  to  look  into  it,  lost  his  balance,  and  over 
he  went.  The  hogs  resented  the  intrusion  of  a  drunkard  by 
loud  grunts  of  dissatisfaction.  The  young  man  didn't  like 
that,  and  raising  himself  as  well  as  he  could,  he  said,  "  Hold 
your  tongue ;  I  'm  as  good  as  any  of  you."  I  should  like  to 


AN    UNEXPECTED    CATASTROPHE. 


KICKED   OUT   OF  BED. 


431 


know  whether  any  lady  would  like  to  associate  with  a  young 
gentleman  who  at  any  time  considered  himself  only  the  equal 
of  hogs. 

Two  students,  who  occupied  two  different  beds  in  the 
same  room,  came  home  very  drunk  one  night,  and  groped 
their  way  to  bed  the  best  way  they  could;  but  it  so  happened 
that  both  tumbled  into  one  bed.  "How  d'ye  get  on,  Bill?" 
cried  one  to  the  other.  "  Why,  there's  another  fellow  in  my 
bed.  How  are  you  getting  along?"  " I 've  got  a  fellow  in 

we  'd  better    kick  'em  both 
out ; "  and  at  it  they  went, 
when  by  and  by  one  of  them 
was   launched  into  the  mid- 
dle   of    the    floor.      "Well, 
Bill,   how    have 
you  managed?" 
"  Why,    I    have 
kicked  my  man 
out.    What  have 
you    done    with 

AN   AWFUL  PITCH  OVER.  yOUrS  ?  "       "  Oh," 

said  he,   "My  man  has  kicked  me  out." 

Another  fellow,  stumbling  against  a  pump  as  he  was  reel- 
ing home,  drew  off,  and,  shutting  his  fists,  said,  "Young  man,  if 
you  will  just  lay  down  that  stick  I  will  whip  you  in  about  three 
minutes."  I  remember  reading  of  a  man  who  was  riding  in 
a  wagon  over  a  very  rough  road,  and,  being  intoxicated,  was 
suddenly  pitched  out.  He  sat  up  and  said,  as  he  rubbed  his 
head,  "  That  was  an  awful  pitch  over  !  If  I  had  known  what 
it  was  going  to  be,  I  would  not  have  got  out." 

I  remember  seeing  an  intoxicated  man  attempting  to 
wheel  another,  in  a  similar  state,  in  a  wheel-barrow.  The 


432 


A  GROTESQUE   SCENE. 


tipsy  gravity  (you  all  know  how  silly  a  drunken  man  looks 
when  he  tries  to  appear  sober)  with  which  one  held  the  han- 
dles, and  the  other  tried  to  keep  his  balance,  looking  now  on 
one  side  and  now  on  another,  was  painfully  grotesque.  At 
length  the  barrow  turned  on  one  side,  and  out  the  man  rolled. 
Turning  to  his  companion,  he  said,  "  You  are  drunk."  A  blow 

was  struck,   and   at   it 
they  went,  hitting  the 
air.     They  hit  in  every 
direction     and     struck 
nowhere,  until  at  last  one 
of  them  put  up  his  hand, 
and  that  happened  to  hit 
the  other,  and  they  fell  one 
upon  the  other.    Dr.  John- 
son must  have  had  such  a 
scene  as  that  in  his  mind's 
eye    when     he     described 
"  Higgledy-piggledy  "  to  be 
"  A  conglomerated  mass  of 
heterogeneous     matter." 
HA'  HA!  Such   sights,    however    ri- 

diculous, are  always  sad  when  we  remember  that  the  actors 
in  them  are  men. 

It  is  worth  something  to  be  able  to  say,  as  did  the  Indian, 
holding  the  bottle  in  his  hand,  "  Ah,  devil's  spittle,  fire-water, 
broth  of  hell,  I  am  your  master !  Ha,  ha ! "  There  was  a 
great  deal  of  difference  between  him  and  another  Indian,  who 
said,  "Please  to  give  poor  Indian  some  rum  ;  me  good  Indian." 
"Ah,  but  good  Indians  never  go  round  begging  for  rum." 
"  Then  me  great  big  rascal.  Give  me  some  rum."  The  drink 
will  make  a  man  say  or  do  anything  to  get  it. 

Men  often  promise  themselves,  "  It  is  only  for  this  once ; 


WILL  IT  PAY?  433 

I  will  do  so  no  more."  As  Shakespeare  said :  "  I  will  wink, 
and  it  is  done."  Yes,  DONE.  Ah  !  the  doing  is  but  the 
beginning.  If  nothing  followed,  there  would  be  no  punish- 
ment for  folly,  no  chastisement  for  crime.  It  is  not  done. 
The  deed  is  done,  but  the  results  are  not  ephemeral.  There  is 
no  such  thing  as  getting  rid  of  them.  And  how  many  fly  for 
relief  to  the  very  thing  which  has  harmed  them,  and  thus 
multiply  the  spectres  of  the  past,  like  "trying  the  hair  of 
the  dog  that  bit  you,"  which  is  "laying  up  a  store  of  the 
same  horrors  to  last  you  a  week."  "What  hast  thou  done? " 
was  the  question  asked  of  Eve  after  the  first  sin.  She  only 
ate  some  fruit,  a  little  thing,  but  of  what  tremendous  conse- 
quence. So  a  simple  "yes  "  or  "no,"  that  a  breath  can  utter, 
may  mark  the  transition  point  between  the  eternal  right  and 
wrong,  and  fix  the  destiny  of  a  man  forever.  Edward  Irving 
once  said :  "Does  the  devil,  as  in  the  old  tales,  offer  royal  gifts 
and  pardons  to  those  who  serve  him  ?  "  Some  few  may  seem 
to  make  a  good  bargain  of  his  service ;  but  what  he  doeth  to  the 
many,  the  sluggard  in  his  poverty,  and  the  violator  of  law,  can 
tell  in  the  penalty  that  surely  comes.  Then,  young  men,  as 
you  lift  the  sparkling  wine  to  your  lips  in  the  jollity  and  reck- 
lessness of  a  night's  spree,  ask  yourselves,  "  WILL  IT  PAY  ?  " 
WILL  IT  ?  Yes,  it  will.  But  how  ? 

It  is  pitiful  to  see  educated  men  degraded  and  ruined  by 
the  love  of  drink.  I  was  once  called  upon  by  a  lady  in 
Exeter,  who  told  me  that  her  husband  was  once  an  Indepen- 
dent minister;  that  he  had  been  a  popular  and  acceptable 
preacher  for  some  years  in  Hampshire.  He  was  invited  to 
start  a  new  interest  in  Nottinghamshire,  and  he  preached 
three  or  four  years  there.  He  was  a  nervous,  energetic  man  ; 
he  preached  night  and  day,  and  almost  wore  rhimself  out. 
The  doctor  said  he  must  take  some  wine  and  beer.  "  Oh, 
dear  !  "  said  the  lady,  and  she  wept  as  if  her  heart  would 


43-i  FROM  PULPIT  TO  PRISON. 

break,  "  to  give  beer  and  wine  to  my  husband  to  stimulate 
him  more.  If  the  doctor  had  prescribed  a  sedative  and 
ordered  him  rest,  the  people  would  have  given  it  to  him ; 
instead  of  that,  he  only  added  fuel  to  the  fire.  He  did  more 
work  for  a  time,  but  the  habit  of  drinking  grew  upon  him  as 
a  kind  of  fascination ;  it  fastened  upon  him  till  it  became  a 
master  passion.  He  left  his  church,  and  preached  for  two 
years  at  a  place  eight  miles  from  Torquay.  The  habit  grew 
so  fast  upon  him  that  he  gave  up  his  charge  and  the  ministry 
altogether ;  and  now  I  want  you  to  see  him  in  Exeter  jail, 
where  he  lies  awaiting  his  trial  in  July  for  larceny."  You 
may  tell  me,  if  you  please,  about  education  ;  educated  men 
become  drunkards  as  well  as  others.  Such  cases  are  by  no 
means  rare,  but  there  is  a  tendency  to  hush  and  hide  their 
disgrace.  Men  have  died  of  disease,  have  died  in  railway 
carriages,  have  been  crushed  to  death  by  accident,  have  been 
blown  up  in  steamboats  ;  we  may  speak  of  these ;  but  when 
men  fall  from  high  positions  and  die  drunkards,  the  disposi- 
tion of  the  people  is  to  let  down  the  curtain  between  them 
and  the  public,  and  one  must  not  speak  about  them  for  fear 
of  hurting  the  feelings  of  others. 

At  some  period  of  our  lives  a  time  comes  to  all  of  us 
when  we  have  certain  opportunities.  Opportunities  are  pass- 
ing day  by  day,  —  opportunities  of  helping  others,  of  doing 
good,  of  serving  God,  of  girding  ourselves  with  all  the 
strength  of  Christian  manhood.  Duty  !  Is  it  your  duty  to 
make  a  sacrifice  for  others  ?  Do  IT.  Is  it  your  duty  to  give 
up  that  which  is  debasing  and  degrading  you,  or  bringing 
your  family  to  poverty,  wretchedness,  and  ruin  ?  Do  IT.  Ah, 
young  men,  if  I  could  but  prevail  upon  you  in  the  morning 
of  your  life  to  DO  IT. 

Young  men,  over  forty  years  ago  I  began  to  speak  on  the 
subject  of  temperance.  I  was  a  young  man  then  ;  I  had 


AN   INEFFACEABLE   RECORD.  435 

forty  years  of  life  before  me.  Now  those  forty  years  are 
behind  me ;  and  there  is  not  a  word  I  have  spoken,  not  a 
whisper  I  have  uttered,  there  is  not  a  line  I  have  written, 
there  is  not  a  mark  I  have  made,  that  I  can  change  to  save 
my  soul.  It  is  my  record.  And  you  are  making  your  record. 
Some  of  you  turned  over  a  clean,  clear  page  this  morning. 
Look  at  it  now.  Are  there  no  blots  on  it,  no  marks  on  it,  no 
stains  on  it?  To-night,  as  you  look  at  your  record,  you 
hurriedly  close  it  up  ?  Ah,  my  friend,  you  cannot  close  it. 
You  can  never  remove  one  single  stain  from  your  record.  It 
is  there.  Sixty  years  of  life  !  It  is  an  awful  thing  to  live,  — 
no  good  done,  a  mere  life  of  self-indulgence  and  sin,  leaving 
the  very  dregs  to  be  drunk  at  last,  and  those  dregs  bitter 
beyond  description. 

Young  men,  we  need  you  in  the  strength  of  your  man- 
hood to  declare  war  against  this  fearful  evil.  We  want  you 
all ;  yes,  we  want  all  classes  to  help  us.  There  is  a  time 
coming,  and  coming  to  us  all,  when  duty  is  plain.  Perhaps 
some  of  you  will  feel  it  your  duty  now  to  join  in  this  work 
and  help  us.  Duty  first !  DUTY  !  Put  your  hand  in  the 
hand  of  Duty,  and  let  her  lead  you,  whether  through  storm 
or  sunshine,  light  or  darkness,  life  or  death,  —  DO  YOUR 

DUTY. 

In  your  young  manhood  you  are  a  hero-worshipper ;  but 
the  heroes  who  are  the  noblest  are  not  always  martial  or 
political.  It  is  the  quiet  endurance,  the  quiet  suffering,  and 
the  quiet  struggling,  for  the  benefit  of  others  and  for  the 
country  in  which  we  live,  that  constitutes  the  noblest  heroism 
and  true  greatness.  He  who  ranks  himself  on  the  side  of 
right  is  the  hero.  Nero,  Emperor  of  Rome,  sat  upon  his 
throne  clothed  in  purple ;  a  nation  bowed  to  him  ;  at  his  nod 
men  trembled.  Who  can  touch  him?  In  the  Mamertine 
dungeon  sat  a  man  chained  to  a  soldier,  writing  a  letter  to 


136  THE   TRIUMPH  OF  RIGHT. 

Timothy  to  send  him  his  cloak,  for  he  was  shivering  in  the 
cold  cell  of  that  Roman  prison.  What  a  contrast  between 
the  two;  this  poor  prisoner  and  that  mighty  emperor,  the 
right  and  the  wrong.  The  wrong  on  the  throne,  and  the 
right  in  the  dungeon.  But  read  on,  read  on !  That  hateful 
wretch,  a  slave  to  every  evil  passion,  fled  from  his  infuriated 
soldiers,  and,  like  a  coward,  with  the  help  of  an  attendant, 
committed  suicide,  and  his  name  is  now  a  by-word.  No 
Christian  will  give  it  to  his  children,  and  men  will  only  occa- 
sionally give  it  to  a  dog.  The  other  finished  his  letter :  "  I 
have  fought  the  good  fight ;  I  have  finished  my  course ;  I 
have  kept  the  faith;  "  and  wrote  words  that  have  thrilled  the 
hearts  and  shaped  the  lives  of  millions,  and  will  for  ages  yet 
to  come.  Those  who  are  with  the  right  are  with  God,  and 
those  who  are  with  the  wrong  are  against  him.  Tell  me  that 
such  a  battle  as  ours  is  Utopian  !  I  grant  you  we  may  never 
see  the  full  results  ;  but  we  are  seeing  the  growth  of  a  public 
sentiment  which,  under  God,  is  to  sweep  intemperance  away 
forever. 

Young  men,  life  is  opening  out  to  you  ;  to  us  it  is  closing. 
Oh,  to  be  a  young  man  again,  with  all  the  energies,  with  the 
fulness  of  life,  the  young  blood  coursing  in  the  veins,  with 
the  emotion  and  ambition  that  you  possess  to-day,  and  which 
I  have  possessed.  There  is  not  a  young  man  who  is  not 
looking  towards  his  future  position  in  life.  You  are  looking 
forward  into  the  future,  trusting  that  you  will  occupy  a  higher 
and  grander  position  than  is  yours  to-day. 

Yes,  and  every  man  that  started  in  life  as  you  are  starting 
had  just  the  same  ambition.  You  will  be  A  MAN ;  you  will 
suffer  and  sacrifice  rather  than  become  degraded.  That 
clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England  who  was  fined  five  shil- 
lings and  costs  for  drunkenness,  at  Marylebone,  did  not  sup- 
pose that  would  be  the  result  when  he  started  in  life  and 


COACHING  IN  CALIFORNIA.  437 

began  to  take  a  wrong  direction.  That  physician  who  once 
possessed  a  large  and  lucrative  practice,  who  was  fined  in  the 
same  court,  just  after  the  clergyman,  for  attacking  a  man, 
when  he  was  drunk,  did  not  suppose  that  would  be  the  end 
of  it  when  he  began  to  drink.  A  man  I  knew  well,  who  was 
governor  of  his  State  and  representative  in  Congress  for 
two  sessions,  did  not  suppose  that  he  would  ever  become 
the  poor,  miserable,  drunken  loafer  that  he  did. 

There  was  a  man  whom  I  knew,  a  graduate  of  Harvard 
University,  who  became  utterly  degraded  and  ruined  by 
drink.  I  found  him  in  California,  or  rather  he  found  me,  and 
a  more  terrible  blasphemer  I  never  knew.  He  was  a  drunk- 
ard, almost  a  beast,  if  you  can  call  a  human  being  a  beast ; 
he  was  awfully  brutalized.  Men  gave  him  work  occasionally 
at  driving  one  of  the  coaches,  but  only  at  odd  times,  and  for 
short  distances,  for  they  could  not  trust  him  on  a  long  road. 
He  came  to  see  me,  and  I  was  never  more  disgusted  with  any 
man  in  my  life.  He  was  a  man  of  wonderful  genius.  He  is 
dead  now,  so  I  can  mention  his  case.  You  know  in  Califor- 
nia coaches  are  driven  down  very  steep  mountains,  and,  to 
insure  safety,  they  have  a  very  strong  brake,  operated  and 
controlled  by  the  foot,  and  with  this  brake  the  coach  is  con- 
trolled and  kept  steady.  A  driver  once  said  to  me,  as  we 
were  going  down  the  side  of  a  mountain  with  an  incline  of 
two  thousand  feet  in  two  and  a  half  miles :  "  These  horses 
are  in  full  gallop,  but  they  don't  pull."  He  had  his  foot  on 
the  brake,  and  we  were  going  at  such  a  tremendous  rate  that 
I  had  to  hold  on  to  both  sides  of  the  seat  on  which  I  sat,  lest 
I  should  go  over  with  the  impetus  of  swirling  round  the 
curves.  It  is  for  just  such  occasions  that  these  powerful 
brakes  are  required.  The  man  of  whom  I  have  spoken  was 
visited  on  his  death-bed  by  his  sister,  who  said  to  him  : 
"  George,  why  don't  you  keep  your  foot  still  ?  What  is  the 

27 


438 


KEEP  YOUR  FOOT  ON  THE   BRAKE. 


matter  with  you?  What  do  you  keep  lifting  your  knee 
for  ?  "  "  Oh !  "  he  said,  "  I  am  on  an  awful  down  grade,  and 
/  cannot  find  the  brake."  Young  man,  your  foot  is  on  the 
brake  to-day.  Keep  it  there  !  In  God's  name  keep  it  there  ! 
You  may  make  your  future  just  what  you  choose  to  make  it. 


AN   EXCITING  HIDE   IN   CALIFORNIA, 

How  many  young  men  are  going  to  wreck !  I  once  asked 
a  young  man  why  he  would  not  sign  the  temperance  pledge, 
"Because,"  said  he,  "I  will  not  sign  away  my  liberty."  I 
said,  "Liberty!"  And  he  said,  "I  want  to  do  as  I  please." 
Young  men,  every  man  who  does  as  he  pleases,  independent 
of  moral,  physical,  and  divine  law,  is  a  mean,  miserable  slave, 
Every  man  who  is  not  held  by  the  freedom  of  law  is  a  slave 


SOWING  AND  HEAPING.  439 

There  is  the  great  difficulty.  Young  men  want  to  do  as  they 
please  in  their  young,  brisk  manhood.  They  throw  off  re- 
straint ;  so  they  take  the  wrong  direction,  and  they  know  it. 
There  is  not  a  young  man  who  is  taking  the  wrong  direction 
but  knows  it.  You  do  not  hear  them  defend  their  course ; 
they  palliate  it.  "  Oh,  young  men  will  be  young  men."  So 
they  ought  to  be  young  men.  "  Yes,  but  they  will  sow  their 
wild  oats."  Then  they  will  reap  them.  "  Whatsoever  a  man 
soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap."  Sow  wheat  and  you  reap 
wheat.  Sow  wild  oats  and  you  reap  wild  oats  in  the  by  and 
by.  And  many  there  are  who  possess  in  their  bodies  the 
pains,  cramps,  neuralgia,  and  rheumatism,  the  result  of  the 
sins  and  the  follies  of  their  youth.  They  must  reap  that 
which  they  have  sown. 

You  say,  "  It  will  come  right  by  and  by."  What  will  ? 
Begin  wrong  and  end  right?  NEVER  !  Two  divergent  lines 
go  on  widening  to  all  eternity.  There  is  no  coming  together. 
I  tell  you  a  man  is  a  fool  who  undertakes  to  go  wrong,  and 
expects  he  will  come  out  right  somehow  or  other  at  the  end. 
If  he  comes  back,  he  will  come  back  with  bleeding  feet  and 
torn  flesh  and  streaming  eyes  and  a  broken  heart.  He  must 
come  back  thus  if  he  ever  comes  to  the  right.  Then  I  ask 
you,  young  gentlemen,  with  bright  prospects  before  you,  with 
ambition,  with  hope,  with  desire,  what  are  you  going  to  make 
of  the  time  that  is  to  come  ? 

There  is  no  power  on  earth  that  tends  so  much  to  the 
degradation  and  to  the  loss  of  young  men;  to  their  ruin 
morally,  physically,  spiritually,  religiously,  and,  I  might  say, 
financially,  like  the  drink.  It  stands  head  and  shoulders, 
like  Saul,  above  all  other  influences  and  tendencies.  I  know 
there  are  a  great  many  who  do  not  believe  it.  How  sad  to 
know  that  many  of  the  intemperate  are  drawn  out  of  Young 
Men's  Christian  Associations,  are  drawn  out  of  Sunday- 


440  OPPORTUNITIES  FOR  GOOD. 

schools,  are  drawn  out  of  churches,  are  drawn  out  of  the 
most  godly  homes  in  the  land. 

Young  men,  you  have  an  influence  to  exert.  Perhaps  you 
say,  "  I  can't  talk  on  this  subject ;  I  am  engaged  largely  in 
my  own  business,  and  can't  employ  my  time  in  this  matter." 
We  should  all  exert  our  influence  for  good,  whenever  we 
have  opportunity.  I  was  reading,  the  other  day,  the  history 
of  the  Woman  of  Samaria.  You  remember  Jesus  sat  by  the 
well,  and  the  woman  came  to  draw  water.  His  disciples  had 
gone  to  buy  bread,  and  he  was  faint  and  weary.  But  the 
woman  came  to  draw  water,  and  there  was  an  opportunity  of 
doing  good.  If  he  had  been  as  selfish  as  some  of  us,  he 
would  have  said,  u  I  am  weary,  I  am  tired,  I  am  faint,  I  must, 
take  some  refreshment,  I  am  continually  laboring,  I  shall  have 
another  opportunity."  But  no ;  he  forgot  his  faintness  and 
his  weariness ;  there  was  an  opportunity  to  do  good,  and  he 
talked  with  the  woman.  Suppose  he  had  argued  like  some 
of  us,  what  would  have  been  the  result  ?  She  would  have 
gone  back  with  the  water  on  her  shoulders.  Her  neighbors 
might  have  said,  "Well,  what  news  at  the  well?"  "Nothing; 
an  interesting  stranger  sat  there ;  but  he  said  nothing  to  me, 
and  I  said  nothing  to  him."  But  what  was  the  result  ?  She 
forgot  her  water-pot,  and  went  into  the  city  and  said,  "  Come, 
see  a  man  that  told  me  all  things  that  ever  I  did ; "  and  the 
whole  city  came  out  unto  him.  That  was  doing  good  as  he 
had  opportunity;  and  there  is  not  a  young  man  but  may 
lead  another  into  the  path  of  truth  and  safety,  or  send  him 
forth  as  a  minister  of  mercy  to  others. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

OUR  DUTY  TO  THE  FALLEN  —  BRANDS  PLUCKED  FROM  THE 
BURNING  —  STORY  OF  THE  WICKEDEST  MAN  IN  NEW  YORK. 

An  Incident  of  the  War  —  Clean  Linen  First,  Religion  Afterwards  — Work 
Among  the  Poor  and  Depraved  —  Dens  of  Vice  —  Bread  Before  Tracts  — 
Speaking  to  an  Audience  of  Eight  Hundred  Outcasts  —  The  Wickedest 
Man  in  New  York  — Story  of  Orville  Gardiner — A  Mother's  Love  for  a 
Wayward  Son  —  A  Thrilling  Experience  —  A  Nine  Hours'  Fight  with  a 
Jug  of  Whiskey  —  A  Thoroughly  Reformed  Gambler  and  Prize-fighter  — 
Tempted  at  Communion  Service  —  Cutting  it  Off  "as  Square  as  a  Piece 
of  Cheese "  —Daily  Trials  —  Trusting  in  God  — My  Boyish  Dislike  of 
Attending  Church  —  Incident  of  a  Lecture  Tour  in  Ohio  —  Sad  Down- 
fall of  a  Once  Devoted  Christian  Woman  —  A  Minister  Drunk  in  His  Own 
Pulpit  —  Scene  at  One  of  My  Lectures  —  Selling  the  Last  Blanket  for 
Drink  —  Death  and  Desolation  —  The  Breach  in  the  Dike  —  A  Thrilling 
Story  of  Holland  Life. 


E  are  often  asked,  "  If  you  in- 
duce a  number  of  men  to  sign 
the  pledge,  will  they  keep  it  ?  " 
Here  we  find  the  value  of 
organization.  Take,  for  in- 
stance, the  temperance  organ- 
izations which  care  for  these 
men,  keep  them,  and  look  after  them  ; 
the  results  show  one  of  the  great  ad- 
vantages of  organized  effort.  Dr. 
Goodell  of  St.  Louis,  in  a  speech  at 
Chautauqua,  speaking  of  the  advantages  of  organization,  re- 
ferred to  the  career  and  work  of  Whitefield  and  Wesley ;  the 
first  simply  a  preacher,  the  other  a  preacher  and  organizer ; 
thus,  while  Whitefield  is  now  comparatively  unknown  by  his 
influence  on  the  world,  the  power  of  Wesley's  influence  is 

441 


442  HUMANITARIANISM   IN  RELIGION. 

felt  all  round  the  globe.  The  permanency  of  the  drunkard's 
reform  is  secured  by  taking  personal  interest  in  them.  It  is 
for  you  to  lay  your  hand  on  them.  You  say  they  are  "  very 
hard  cases."  So  they  are,  but  I  never  found  a  case  so  hard 
that  it  could  not  be  reached  by  perseverance.  You  strike 
once  or  twice,  and  then  leave  them  because  there  is  no  response. 
Yet  let  us  try  again.  It  is  our  business  to  knock  at  the  door  of 
a  man's  heart  till  there  is  a  response,  if  we  knock  till  the  day 
of  his  death.  Never  give  him  up  while  there  is  life,  —  never. 

Ah,  there  is  where  you  can  work.  You  can  work  by  your 
influence ;  but  it  must  be  by  your  example  as  well,  so  that 
you  can  say  to  those  men,  "  Come  with  me,"  not  "go  as  I 
direct,"  but  "  come  with  me."  There  is  a  mighty  power  in 
that  word  COME. 

I  believe  in  humanitarianism  in  religion.  Some  people 
have  too  much,  and  some  too  little.  We  wish  to  save  men. 
Our  object  is  to  make  this  total  abstinence  pledge  a  means  of 
grace  to  them. 

One  of  the  men  who  went  to  the  war  as  chaplain,  a  volun- 
teer chaplain,  came  back  and  said :  "  I  soon  found  that  my 
business  was  on  the  battle-field.  I  came  to  one  poor  fellow 
who  had  been  wounded  and  was  very  feverish.  He  was  lying 
on  a  wretched  bed  with  a  hard  pillow,  and  the  poor  fellow  was 
very  ill,  and  very  uncomfortable,  and  very  miserable,  tossing 
from  side  to  side.  I  sat  down  by  him,  and  I  pitied  him  so  much 
that  I  actually  cried.  I  said  to  him,  '  My  poor  friend,  shall  I 
pray  with  you  ? '  4 1  don't  care  whether  you  pray  or  not. 
Pray,  if  you  want  to.  Oh  dear,  oh  dear,  oh  dear  !  I  wish  I 
had  a  clean  shirt.'  I  saw  that  was  my  first  work.  When  I  had 
given  him  clean  linen,  and  made  his  pillow  easier,  and  his  bed 
softer,  I  laid  my  cool  hand  upon  his  forehead.  Moistening 
his  dry  lips,  I  held  his  hand  in  mine,  and  prayed  with  him  for 
about  a  minute,  and  he  cried  like  a  child."  That  clean  linen 


PRACTICAL   MISSION   WORK. 


443 


was  as  much  a  means  of  grace  as  the  prayer,  and  under  the 
circumstances  it  was  needed  first.  First  put  forth  the  effort 
to  relieve.  You  can  do  that  with  prayer.  You  may  pray 
all  the  time  you  are  putting  the  clean  linen  on.  And  then, 
when  you  pray  to  Him  who  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost, 
the  prayer  will  touch  the  sufferer  as  it  never  would  do  under 
any  other  condition. 

I  often  see  the  work  men 
and  women  are  doing  among  the 
poor.  I  saw  them  in  Philadel- 
phia, in  Bedford  Street,  distrib- 
uting tracts.  They  went  down 
into  the  lowest  dens  of  vice,  ||||| 
running  the  risk  of 
infection  and  dis- 
ease and  insult,  en- 
tering garrets  and 
cellars  in  the  dis- 
charge of  their  duty 
• — many  of  them  ladies 
belonging  to  the  best  -^ 
families.  I  spoke  in  the 
Academy  of  Music  on  the 
Monday  after  I  had  seen 
them  at  their  good  work  on  Sunday.  I  said,  after  alluding  to 
their  missionary  spirit,  "  Ladies,  you  are  engaged  in  a  good 
work,  a  magnificent  work.  But,  ladies,  when  you  go  to  a 
home  of  poverty,  where  there  is  a  constant  battle  for  bread, 
where  they  know  what  hard,  griping,  grinding  starvation 
means,  go  with  your  tracts  in  one  hand,  but  with  a  loaf  of 
bread  in  the  other.  Then,  out  of  respect  to  you,  a  man  will 
not  tear  up  your  tract,  nor  light  his  pipe  with  it  when  your 
back  is  turned,  because  you  show  sympathy  with  the  man  and 


"  SHALL  I  PRAY  WITH  YOU  ? 


444 


A  WRETCHED   COMPANY. 


with  his  class  in  their  sorrows."  So  did  the  Master.  He  laid 
his  hands  on  the  afflicted.  We  read  more  about  His  healing 
the  sick,  curing  diseases,  and  cleansing  lepers  than  we  do  of 
His  preaching.  He  went  among  the  people  and  laid  His 
hands  on  them,  and  as  Christian  people  we  should  follow  His 
example. 

I  was  once  asked  to  speak  to  an  audience  of  the  most  mis- 
erable outcasts  that  the  eye  of  man  ever  rested  upon.  The 
meeting  was  held  in  a 
loft,  and  there  were 
about  eight  hundred 


MY  AUDIENCE   OF   OUTCASTS. 


outcasts  present,  —  forlorn,  hopeless,  homeless,  ragged,  mise- 
rable. The  very  stench  of  the  audience  was  sickening.  There 
were  a  few  ladies  present  —  running  the  risk  of  infection  — 
who  came  to  sing  a  few  Sunday-school  hymns.  There  were 
gentlemen  there  to  read  passages  of  Scripture  and  expound 
them  in  language  simple  and  appropriate.  Some  were  present 
to  tell  them  lively  stories,  each  having  its  moral,  and  others 
to  sing  their  hymns.  It  seemed  as  if  no  impression  was  made 
upon  the  audience.  They  sat,  many  of  them  with  folded  hands, 
and  listened  stolidly.  Why  did  they  come  ?  Why  are  they 
here  ?  Why  do  the}r  sit  so  still  that  you  could  hear  a  whisper  ? 


GIVING  A  SON  TO  JESUS.  445 

Because  every  one  of  them  knew  that  if  they  remained  in  the 
hall  for  one  hour,  and  behaved  themselves,  they  would  get  a 
loaf  of  bread  as  they  went  out. 

"  Oh,  that  is  using  wrong  means  altogether  to  bring 
men  under  the  gospel."  Is  it  ?  Feed  them  with  the  bread 
that  perisheth,  if  by  that  means  you  can  bring  them  to  hear 
of  the  bread  which  endure th  unto  eternal  life.  A  lady  in 
Glasgow  said  to  me,  "  I  never  give  a  poor  man  a  tract  but  I 
give  a  sixpence  with  it."  When  we  give  tracts  to  the  hungry 
with  one  hand,  let  us  give  loaves  of  bread  with  the  other. 
We  are  not  setting  gifts  in  the  place  of  the  gospel,  but  making 
them  subservient  to  the  gospel. 

What  is  our  great  object  in  the  reformation  of  the  drunk- 
ard ?  What  should  be  the  great  object  of  loving,  Christian 
men  ?  To  bring  that  man  to  Christ,  and  indirectly  to  use  this 
total  abstinence  principle  to  that  end. 

I  have  often  said,  It  is  grand  to  see  a  man  fighting  an  evil 
habit,  and  none  but  those  who  have  passed  through  such  a 
battle  know  what  a  conflict  it  is.  Orville  Gardiner  of  New 
York  was  called  the  most  wicked  man  in  that  city.  More 
than  once  since  he  became  a  Christian  he  has  been  in  my 
house ;  and  a  warmer,  tenderer  heart  than  his  never  beat  in 
a  human  bosom.  I  have  seen  him  sit  and  cry  as  he  said, 
"  Only  to  think  that  Jesus  should  love  me."  He  was  a  prize- 
fighter, a  blasphemer,  a  drunkard,  in  every  respect  a  wicked 
man ;  and  there  was  nothing  bad  that  he  would  not  do.  Let 
me  say  here  to  mothers,  he  had  a  godly  mother.  When  they 
would  say  to  her,  "Well,  Mrs.  Gardiner,  what  do  you  think 
of  Orville  now  ?  "  she  would  say,  "  I  have  given  him  to  Jesus ; 
I  pray  for  him  three  times  a  day,  and  Orville  will  be  brought 
into  the  kingdom  yet."  He  had  a  wife  and  one  child.  The 
boy  died,  —  was  drowned.  He  became  more  desperate  than 
ever,  almost  raving  mad.  "  Drink !  drink !  "  he  said,  "  I  drank 


446 


THE  WICKEDEST  MAN  IN  NEW  YORK. 


sixty  glasses  in  twenty-four  hours."  Soon  after  the  death 
of  his  boy  he  was  in  a  saloon,  drinking  with  several  fight- 
ing men.  The  room  was  very  warm  and  close.  They  were 
smoking,  and  he  went  out.  It  was  a  bright  night.  Look- 
ing up  overhead  at  the  narrow  strip  of  sky  visible  above 

the  narrow  street,  he  saw  two 
stars  shining  brightly.  He 
took  off  his  hat  and  wiped  his 
forehead,  and  the  thought 
struck  him,  "  I  wonder  where 
my  boy  is."  It  flashed  upon 
him  that  he  was  not  on  the 
right  road  ever  to  see  his  boy 
again.  He  went  home  and 
sent  away  two  men  whom  he 
had  been  training  for  the  ring ; 
and  then  he  went  up  to  see  his 
old  mother,  and  they  knelt  and 
prayed  together.  "But,"  he 
said,  "mother,  I  cannot  be  a 
Christian  until  I  give  up  the 
drink,  and  that  is  the  hardest 
work  of  all.  Now,"  said  he, 
"  mother,  to-day  I  will  drink 
myself  to  death  or  I  will  get 
the  victory."  He  bought  a  jug  of  liquor  —  it  contained  about 
two  quarts  of  whiskey  —  and  carried  it  in  a  boat  across  the 
river,  went  into  the  woods,  found  a  clear  space,  and  tnen  set 
the  jug  down  on  a  stone  and  began  to  fight  it.  "  Now  it  is 
give  you  up  forever,  or  I  will  never  leave  this  place  alive.  I 
will  drink  the  whole  of  you,  or  I  will  conquer  you."  For  nine 
hours  that  man  fought  and  struggled  with  his  appetite.  He 
said,  "  I  was  afraid  to  break  the  jug  for  fear  the  smell  of  the 


"l   WONDER  WHERE    MY   BOY   IS." 


FIGHTING   A  JUG  OF  WHISKEY. 


447 


liquor  would  drive  me  mad.     My  knees  were  so  sore  from 
kneeling  while  crying  to  God  to  help  me,  that  I  could  hardly 

move.     I  knew  my  mother 
was    praying    for    me.      I 
kicked  a  place  in  the  soft 
loam,  and  took  up  the  jug, 
holding  it  at  arm's  length, 
and  placed  it  in  the  hole. 
Then  I  covered  it  up,  and 
stamped  upon  it.   And  from 
that  day  to  this  not  a  drop 
has  ever  passed  my  lips." 
It    requires    strength   of 
mind    and 
firmness     of 
purpose  to 
do     such     a 
thing  as  that. 
What  I  want 
to  impress 
upon  every 
man  is  this. 
You  have  a 
will.     Did 
you  ever  ex- 
ercise  your 
will?     Did 
you     ever 

A  DESPERATE    STRUGGLE.  resolutely 

determine,  « I  will  ?  "  Why,  there  are  circumstances  that 
seem  almost  inevitable,  that  you  can  often  fight  off  by  the 
power  of  your  will. 

I  believe  there  are  a  great  many  people  living  to-day  who, 


448  A  SMOULDERING  VOLCANO. 

if  they  had  not  willed  otherwise,  would  have  been  dead  and 
buried  years  ago.  I  have  heard  it  said  of  a  woman  that 
"  she  would  have  been  dead  years  ago  if  it  had  not  been  for 
the  power  of  her  will." 

We  say  to  every  intemperate  person,  We  come  to  offer 
you  freedom  from  the  drink.  We  have  a  "  Declaration  of  In- 
dependence "  for  you  to  sign ;  and  if  you  sign  it  you  declare, 
not  that  you  are  free,  but  that  you  will  be  free.  That  is  it. 
However,  there  is  a  fight.  I  never  tell  a  man  that  he  can 
leave  off  drinking  as  easily  as  he  can  turn  over  his  hand.  It 
is  not  true.  He  has  to  fight.  I  love  a  fighter.  Some  men 
never  fight. 

Now,  WE  MUST  FIGHT.  There  is  one  thing  I  want  to  say 
to  those  who  belong  to  the  Gospel  Temperance  Society,  and 
it  is  treading  on  delicate  ground.  But  it  is  a  matter  that 
sometimes  troubles  us.  I  have  heard  men  say  that  the  love 
of  Jesus  or  the  grace  of  God  has  taken  away  their  appetite. 
Now,  I  have  a  letter  from  a  gentleman,  who  says,  "  I  prayed 
earnestly,  and  God  took  from  me  all  desire  for  drink."  Granted 
that  He  may  do  so.  But  beware  !  The  appetite  is  physical, 
and  is  produced  by  the  immoderate  use  of  alcohol.  And 
there  is  not  one  who  has  been  a  drunkard  who  can  touch  it, 
who  can  safely  take  to  moderate  drinking.  I  do  not  care  if 
you  call  yourself  fifty  times  a  Christian.  The  grace  of  God 
will  keep  you  from  the  drink ;  but  it  will  not  keep  you  from 
THE  EFFECTS,  if  you  drink.  If  you  think  the  appetite  is 
gone,  beware  how  you  tamper  with  the  devil  that  lies  there 
quiet  and  dormant,  for  the  demon  is  ever  ready  to  rouse  into 
fury  at  the  first  drop  of  alcohol  you  put  to  your  lips. 

The  craving  appetite  is  like  the  smouldering  fire  of  a  vol- 
cano within,  ready  to  be  roused  by  the  first  dram.  Do  not 
tamper  with  that  appetite.  Do  not  think,  if  you  have  ab- 
stained for  years,  that  you  can  drink  moderately.  I  remem- 


THE  TIGER'S  THIRST  FOR  BLOOD.  449 

ber  reading  of  a  man  who  had  a  pet  tiger.  The  gentleman 
was  in  his  study  one  day,  his  hand  hanging  over  the  chair. 
The  tiger  was  licking  his  hand,  and  when  the  man  attempted 
to  remove  it,  the  animal,  with  a  low  growl  and  a  snarl,  fixed 
its  claws  in  his  arm,  and  then  crouched  with  its  ears  thrown 
back,  its  eyes  green,  waving  its  tail.  There  was  danger.  The 
man  kept  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  tiger,  rang  the  bell,  and 


A  MOMENT  OF  DANGER. 


ordered  the  servant  to  bring  his  pistol,  with  which  he  shot 
the  tiger  dead.  He  then  looked  at  his  hand,  and  observed 
blood  upon  it.  The  taste  had  aroused  the  tiger's  dormant 
appetite  for  blood.  So  is  it  with  the  appetite  for  drink,  which 
is  ever  ready,  like  the  tiger,  to  make  the  fatal  spring  when- 
ever it  is  tampered  with. 

The  appetite  for  intoxicating  drinks,  what  is  it  ?  As  near 
as  I  can  define  it,  it  is  a  mysterious  something,  produced  in 
certain  systems  by  the  use  of  intoxicating  liquors,  that  will 
at  once  respond  to  alcohol,  when  touched  by  it.  You  cannot 


450  TEMPTED  AT   COMMUNION  SERVICE! 

make  a  moderate  drinker  out  of  a  drunkard.  I  do  not  care 
how  many  times  he  joins  the  church.  It  has  been  tried  over 
and  over  again.  Total  abstinence  is  absolutely  necessary  to 
save  a  man  who  has  once  been  a  drunkard. 

A  gentleman  in  New  York  said  to  me :  "  I  was  a  sad 
drunkard.  I  became  a  Christian  at  Mr.  Moody's  hippodrome 
meetings  in  New  York.  I  had  signed  the  pledge  ;  I  wanted 
to  work  for  the  Lord  ;  I  joined  the  church  of  a  minister  who 
sympathized  with  me  ;  and  I  had  been  working  in  his  gospel 
tent  and  trying  to  rescue  men.  Well,  I  believed  and  boasted 
that  the  love  of  Jesus  had  taken  away  all  appetite  for  the  drink. 
Three  weeks  ago  there  was  a  communion  service.  I  smelt 
the  drink  and  wanted  it.  My  fingers  began  to  tingle.  There 
was  an  itching,  burning,  dry  sensation  in  my  throat.  / 
wanted  it.  I  tried  to  pray.  I  tried  to  think  that  I  had  come 
there  to  '  show  the  Lord's  death  till  he  come.'  It  was  no 
use.  I  gripped  the  seat.  I  ground  my  teeth.  I  sat  in  per- 
fect agony.  The  wine  approached  me.  I  shuddered  from 
head  to  foot.  If  I  had  taken  it  in  my  hand,  there  would  not 
have  been  a  drop  of  it  left  in  the  cup.  I  know  it.  I  have 
been  fighting  that  appetite  for  three  weeks  with  all  the  power 
I  had  to  fight  anything,  and  am  very  glad  you  have  comforted 
me  by  the  assurance  that  I  may  yet  be  a  child  of  God,  and 
still  be  subject  to  this  terrible  temptation." 

The  grace  of  God  enables  a  man  to  overcome,  but  it  does 
not  take  away  from  him  the  appetite.  It  can.  The  grace  of 
God  is  able  to  do  anything,  but  that  is  not  its  province.  It 
€an  take  away  the  appetite,  I  suppose ;  but  in  how  many 
cases  has  it  done  so  ?  I  could  give  you  so  many  fearful,  sor- 
rowful illustrations  of  this  over-confidence,  not  in  the  grace 
of  God,  but  in  mistaken  notions  of  the  province  of  the  grace 
of  God ;  and  I  say  to  every  reformed  drunkard,  whether  you 
are  a  Christian  or  not,  let  the  drink  alone.  TOTAL  ABSTI- 
NENCE IS  YOUR  ONLY  SAFETY. 


CUTTING  IT  OFF  SQUARELY.  451 

A  gentleman  was  so  far  enslaved  that  he  was  known  to 
take  a  quart  of  brandy  in  a  day.  How  he  stood  it  no  one 
knew.  He  was  a  fine  business  man,  and  yet,  in  the  estima- 
tion of  those  who  knew  him  well,  he  was  ruining  himself. 
One  day,  when  in  the  house,  he  said :  "  Wife,  come  and  sit 
on  my  knee."  She  sat  there,  and  then  she  said :  "  If  my 
husband  did  not  drink,  I  should  be  the  happiest  woman  in 
the  world."  "  Well,  my  dear,"  he  replied,  "  I  married  you  to 
make  you  happy,  and  I  ought  to  do  so ;  and  if  that  will  make 
you  happy,  I  will  never  drink  another  drop  as  long  as  I  live." 
Now,  that  man  cut  it  off  "  as  square  as  a  piece  of  cheese,"  no 
slivers,  no  splinters,  and  kept  his  word  for  years  without  any 
practical  belief  in  Christianity.  Walking  down  the  street 
with  him  a  little  while  ago,  he  said :  "  Do  you  see  that  red- 
fronted  dririking-saloon  ?  Well,  I  have  been  for  many  years 
afraid  to  pass  the  door  of  that  house,  so  I  used  to  turn  down 
another  street  and  go  round  it ;  but,  Mr.  Gough,  since  I  have 
had  the  grace  of  Gpd  in  my  heart,  I  go  right  by  that 
saloon ;  and  if  I  have  the  slightest  desire  for  drink,  I  breathe 
a  prayer,  4God,  keep  me  for  Christ's  sake,'  and  I  go  by  it 
safely." 

Now,  when  a  man  abstains  from  drink,  and  endeavors  to 
control  an  appetite  in  his  own  strength,  he  does  it  at  daily 
risk ;  but  when  he  puts  forth  all  the  energy  God  has  given 
him,  and  trusts  G-od  for  the  result,  he  is  safe,  absolutely  safe. 
It  is  there  we  seek  to  bring  the  man.  We  cannot  truly  tell 
a  man  that  he  will  not  have  to  fight  after  he  signs  the 
temperance  pledge.  I  do  not  believe  in  a  Christian  life  with- 
out work  and  fighting.  I  have  no  patience  with  men  who 
talk  of  this  life  being  no  battlefield.  I  have  heard  them 
sing :  — 

"  Nothing  for  me  to  do,  v 

Nothing  for  me  to  do." 


452 


A  LITTLE  MARTYR. 


And  I  have  also  heard  them  sing :  — 

"  My  willing  soul  would  stay 

In  such  a  frame  as  this 
And  sit  and  sing  herself  away 
To  everlasting  bliss." 

Now,  I  have  not  very  much  sympathy  with  that  kind  of 
negative  religion.  When  I  was  a  boy,  my  father  always 
demanded  my  attendance  at  church,  and  I  grew  so  wearied 

of  it  that  I  hated  it.  It 
was  very  unpleasant.  I  sat 
on  a  hard  bench,  with  my 
feet  dangling  over,  and  my 
poor  little  legs  would  get 
"pins  and  needles,"  and 
they  would  go  to  sleep,  and 
I  dared  not  rub  them,  for 
father  sat  beside  me.  It  was 
not  very  comforting,  when 
I  was  suffering  on  a  hot  July 
afternoon  in  every  nerve  of 
my  body,  to  hear  them  sing : 

"  Congregations  ne'er  break  up, 
And  Sabbaths  never  end," 

and  I  thought  if  heaven 
was  a  place  where  we  were 
compelled  to  sit  constantly  on  uncomfortable  seats,  I  did  not 
care  to  go  there. 

Let  me  relate  one  incident,  to  give  you  more  fully  an  idea  of 
what  we  mean  when  we  say  Ave  want  to  bring  men  to  Christ 
as  well  as  to  make  them  teetotalers.  I  was  once  travelling 
in  Ohio  on  a  lecturing  tour,  and,  on  entering  the  car,  I  found 
it  very  much  crowded ;  but  I  espied  one  vacant  seat  by  the 
side  of  a  gentleman.  I  said  to  him  :  "  May  I  sit  by  you  ?  " 


MEMORIES   OF  MY  YOUTHFUL  DAYS. 


AN  HONEST   CONFESSION. 


453 


*'  Yes,  Mr.  Gough,  you  may.  I  am  very  glad  to  have  you  for 
a  fellow-traveller.  I  heard  you  speak  last  night.  Now, 
I  'm  a  pretty  hard  drinker.  I  look  like  it,  don't  I  ?  "  "  Some- 
what." "  I  am  worth  some  property,  but  I  might  be  worth 


"  SHE   BURST   OUT   CRYING  AND   DROPPED    ON    HER   KNEES." 

hundreds  where  I  am  only  worth  tens  to-day.  I  'm  a  pretty 
tough  character,  but  I  have  always  considered  myself  a  man 
of  my  word.  After  hearing  your  lecture,  I  went  home,  and 
said  to  my  wife,  4 1  will  never  drink  another  drop  of  liquor 
as  long  as  I  live.'  I  thought  she  would  be  tickled  at  it, 
but  she  burst  out  crying  and  dropped  on  her  knees.  I 
did  n't  like  it.  I  am  not  that  sort  of  a  man.  I  hadn  't  been 
28 


454  EFFICACY  OF  PRAYER. 

on  my  knees  since  I  was  eight  years  old ;  and  as  for  the  in- 
side of  a  church,  I  hardly  know  what  it  is.  I  did  n't  like  it, 
and  I  said :  '  What  in  thunder  are  you  on  your  knees  for  ? '  I 
went  to  bed  sulky ;  got  up  this  morning,  and  I  wanted  whis- 
key. I  had  never  promised  anybody  before  that  I  would  not 
drink ;  but  I  had  done  so  now,  and  I  'm  a  man  of  my  word. 
I  'm  going  to  see  about  a  piece  of  property  I  bought  when 
I  was  drunk.  I  'm  going  right  among  the  drink  and  into 
temptation,  but  I  would  rather  be  carried  home  dead  to-night 
than  carried  home  drunk.  I  want  whiskey  now,  but  I  don't 
mean  to  have  it.  I  tried  to  take  my  breakfast  this  morning. 
I  could  n't  get  it  down ;  the  more  I  tried  to  eat,  the  more  I 
loathed  the  food.  I  wanted  whiskey ;  I  felt  as  if  I  must  have 
whiskey.  And  I  knew  where  I  was  going."  Then  the  tears 
came,  and  the  lip  quivered  as  he  said:  "Well,  Mr.  Gough, 
you  may  think  it  very  queer  of  me,  but  I  have  been  on  my 
knees  this  morning  for  over  an  hour."  "  Have  you  ?  "  "  Yes." 
"  Then,"  I  said,  "  keep  there,  and  you  will  go  home  sober. 
No  man  ever  drank  a  glass  of  liquor  while  he  was  honestly 
praying  God  to  keep  him  from  it."  There  is  safety  there, 
but  all  the  rest  is  risk.  A  man  may  keep  the  pledge  to  the 
day  of  his  death,  but  he  does  it  at  a  risk.  Thus  we  bring 
the  intemperate  not  only  to  fight  the  battle,  but  to  trust  in 
God  for  the  victory. 

Are  there  no  men  ruined  who  ever  had  the  grace  of  God 
in  their  hearts?  Will  you  dare  to  say  that  every  deposed 
minister  never  had  the  grace  of  God  in  his  heart  ?  Will  you 
tell  me  that  the  wife  of  a  minister,  who  spent  eight  years  in 
China,  teaching  Chinese  women  Christianity  as  a  devoted 
Christian,  and  then  came  home  and  delivered  lectures  to 
ladies  on  the  wants  of  the  women  of  China,  for  the  purpose 
of  raising  money,  not  for  herself,  but  for  them,  —  will  you 
tell  me  she  had  no  grace  in  her  heart?  And  yet  she  died 


INTEMPERANCE  IN  THE  PULPIT.  457 

drunk  in  a  hotel  in  Boston,  an  empty  brandy-bottle  by  her 
side.  This  lady  I  personally  knew. 

I  may  be  approaching  delicate  subjects,  but  I  have  to  deal 
with  FACTS,  not  theories.  I  have  to  deal  with  men  and  their 
experiences.  I  knew  a  clergyman,  from  whose  pulpit  I  once 
spoke.  I  was  told  that  he  was  one  of  the  most  eloquent  of 
ministers.  He  was  the  pastor  of  a  very  fashionable  church. 
On  the  night  that  I  spoke  in  his  church  he  was  to  offer  prayer. 
He  was  very  much  intoxicated.  I  was  asked  some  time  after 
if  I  would  testify  in  the  case.  They  were  going  to  try  him 
for  drunkenness.  I  said,  "  No,  I  will  give  no  testimony  what- 
ever." He  was  deposed,  and  that  doctor  of  divinity,  who  had 
preached  the  gospel  to  thousands  for  eight  and  twenty  years, 
has  since  stood  in  a  low  dram-shop,  with  his  face  bruised  and 
blackened,  and  a  number  of  degraded  and  dissolute  men  jeer- 
ing him, —  stood  there  and  preached  his  old  sermons,  for 
whiskey  to  stave  off  delirium  tremens. 

Now  we  appeal  to  you  in  behalf  of  those  who  cannot  drink 
moderately,  and  we  ask  you  to  help  us  in  putting  away  a 
temptation  from  their  very  sight  and  from  their  senses.  Oh, 
it  is  pitiful  to  find,  as  we  do,  in  many  a  family,  a  victim  of 
this  vice,  a  son,  a  brother,  a  father,  a  husband,  with  no  help  in 
his  home. 

Sometimes  we  find  poverty  and  sorrow.  Once  we  found 
a  dead  child  lying  in  one  corner  of  a  room,  unburied,  and  the 
living  inmates  had  nothing  to  eat  but  a  bit  of  dry  bread  and 
a  cup  of  weak  tea.  Everything  else  in  the  house  was  gone, 
because  the  father  was  a  drunkard,  and  he  had  taken  the 
last  blankets  and  pawned  them  for  drink.  This  is  a  positive 
fact,  for  I  know  the  circumstances,  and  the  drunkard  was 
once  a  gentleman.  Dr.  Alfred  Carpenter  said  at  Croydon 
that  he  knew  nearly  a  score  of  similar  cases.  Well,  we  laid 
hold  of  this  poor  victim.  He  said,  "  I  will  sign  the  pledge." 


458  AWFUL  RESPONSIBILITY. 

We  turned  to  his  relatives,  "  Will  you  sign  it  ?  "  "  Oh  no,  we 
don't  drink  enough  to  hurt  us,  and  we  must  have  our  little 
drop  of  beer."  "  What,  will  you  dare  to  bring  it  into  the 
house,  and  let  him  see  it,  and  smell  it,  and  see  you  drink  it  ? 
Do  you  know  what  you  are  doing?  Do  you  know  that  the 
very  sight  of  it  rouses  in  him  a  desire  for  it  ?  The  smell  of 
it  sends  a  stinging,  burning,  itching  sensation  through  every 
nerve  of  his  system.  Let  him  taste  it,  and  you  cannot  save 
him."  "  We  cannot  help  it,  he  may  sign  if  he  will ;  and  he 
ought  to.  But  we  cannot  do  without  our  beer."  And  for 
the  sake  of  a  little  drop  of  beer,  there  are  those  who  will 
not  sign  the  pledge  to  save  husband,  brother,  son,  or  father. 
Now  the  incident  just  related  is  a  fact.  We  are  stating  that 
which  is  true.  We  wish  to  appeal  to  those  who  thus  hold 
themselves  aloof.  It  is  on  the  ground  of  helping  others  that 
we  appeal  to  you. 

We  do  not  tell  the  respectable,  moderate  drinker  he  is 
ruining  himself.  Certainly  not.  There  are  to-day  respecta- 
ble, Christian,  moderate  drinkers.  I  do  not  judge  them.  I 
can  only  judge  them  from  my  standpoint,  and  I  have  no  right 
to  condemn  them.  But  I  have  a  right  to  throw  upon  their 
pathway  all  the  light  God  gives  me  the  ability  to  do,  so  that 
they  may  measure  in  one  hand  the  glass  of  ale,  and  in  the 
other  the  salvation  of  a  man  •  and  let  them  remember  that 
they  must  stand  in  the  day  of  judgment  to  render  their  ac- 
count. 

There  are  times  in  every  man's  life  when  duty  is  plain, 
thougli  it  may  be  difficult  to  perform.  Ease,  comfort,  luxury, 
inclination,  stand  in  the  way.  If  duty  is  performed,  it  must 
be  at  a  sacrifice  ;  but  it  always  "pays"  to  take  the  hand  of 
duty,  and  let  her  lead,  whether  through  storm  or  sunshine, 
darkness  or  light,  grief  or  joy,  life  or  death.  Duty !  duty ! 
always  first.  Men  who  have  fought  mighty  battles  have 


A  STORY  OF  HOLLAND.  459 

found  that  whenever  they  have  yielded  to  sloth,  or  fear,  or 
inclination,  it  has  been  at  a  loss ;  and  when  triumphing  over 
every  obstacle  and  apparent  impossibility,  and  have  obeyed 
the  stern  demands  of  duty,  it  has  paid  them  —  gloriously  paid 
them. 

On  the  northernmost  part  of  the  mainland  of  Holland 
there  is  a  point  of  low  land  extending  nine  miles,  unprotected 
by  any  natural  defence  against  invasion  by  the  sea.  More 
than  two  hundred  years  ago  the  inhabitants  undertook  the 
gigantic  task  of  raising  dykes  of  clay,  earth,  and  stone ;  and 
now,  behind  the  shelter  of  the  embankment,  numerous  vil- 
lages and  towns  are  safe  from  their  powerful  enemy,  the  sea. 
The  spire  of  Alkmond,  a  town  of  10,000  inhabitants,  is  on  a 
level  with  the  top  of  the  dyke.  A  master  is  appointed  to 
oversee  the  workmen  constantly  employed  in  watching  those 
dykes.  A  century  ago,  one  November  night,  a  fierce  gale 
was  blowing  from  the  northwest,  and  increasing  in  fury  every 
minute.  The  dyke-master  had  planned  to  go  to  Amsterdam 
It  was  the  time  of  the  spring  tide.  He  thought  of  the  dyke. 
Should  he  give  up  his  pleasant  trip  to  Amsterdam  ?  The 
dyke !  The  urgency  of  his  visit  was  great.  But  the  dyke  ! 
His  friends  would  be  sadly  disappointed  if  he  did  not  go  to 
Amsterdam.  But  the  dyke!  Inclination  against  duty.  It 
was  six  o'clock;  the  tide  had  turned,  and  would  rise  till 
twelve.  But  at  seven  the  stage  would  start  for  Amsterdam. 
Should  he  go  ?  A  struggle ;  his  inclination  was  to  go,  his 
duty  was  to  remain.  He  looked  up  at  the  wild  and  fast  in- 
creasing storm,  and  he  decided  to  go  with  all  speed  to  his 
post  of  duty. 

When  he  reached  the  dyke,  the  men,  two  hundred  in 
number,  were  in  utter  and  almost  hopeless  confusion.  The 
storm  had  risen  to  a  hurricane.  They  had  used  up  their 
store  of  hurdles  and  canvas  in  striving  to  check  the  inroads 


460 


DOING  HIS  DUTY. 


of  their  relentless  foe.  Then  they  shouted,  "  Here  's  the 
master !  Thanks  be  to  God !  All  right  now ! "  The  master 
placed  every  man  at  his  post;  and  then  a  glorious  battle* 
commenced,  —  the  battle  of  men  against  the  furious  ocean 
About  half  past  eleven  the  cry  was  heard  from  the  centre , 
"  Help  !  help  !  "  "  What 's  the  matter  ?  "  "  Four  stones  out 
at  once."  "Where?"  "Here."  The  master  flung  a  rope 
round  his  waist,  four  men  did  the  same,  forty  hands  held  the 
ends  of  the  ropes  as  the  five  men  glided  down  the  sloping- 
side  of  the  dyke.  The  waves  buffeted  and  tossed  them, 
bruising  their  limbs  and  bodies ;  but  they  closed  the  breach, 
and  were  then  drawn  up.  Cries  for  help  came  from  all 
quarters.  "  Is  there  any  more  canvas  ? "  "  All  gone  ! " 
"  Any  more  hurdles  ?  "  "  All  gone  !  "  "  Off  with  your  coats, 
men,  and  thrust  them  into  the  breach,"  shouted  the  master, 
throwing  off  his  own.  There  they  stood,  half  naked  in  the 
raging  November  storm.  At  a  quarter  to  twelve,  only  a  few 
inches  higher,  and  the  sea  would  rush  over  the  dyke,  and  not  a 
living  soul  would  be  left  in  all  North  Holland.  The  coats  were 
all  used  up.  The  tide  had  yet  to  rise  till  midnight.  "  Now, 
my  men,"  said  the  master,  "  we  can  do  no  more.  Down  on 
your  knees,  every  one  of  you,  and  pray  to  God."  And  two 
hundred  men  knelt  down  on  the  shaking,  trembling  d}rke, 
amid  the  roar  of  the  storm  and  the  thunder  of  the  waves, 
and  lifted  up  their  hands  and  hearts  to  Him  who  could  say  to 
the  waves,  "Be  still!"  And,  as  of  old,  he  heard  them,  and 
saved  them  out  of  their  trouble.  And  the  people  of  Alkmond 
were  eating  and  drinking,  dancing  and  singing,  and  never 
knew  that  there  was  but  an  inch  between  them  and  death 
during  that  terrible  night.  A  country  was  saved  by  one 
man's  decision  for  duty. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 


MEN  AND  METHODS,   MANNERS    AND    MORALS   OF  OUR    OWN 
TIMES  —  ILLUSTRATIVE  ANECDOTES  AND  INCIDENTS. 

Reflection  —  Aping  Extravagance  —  Beginning  Life  Where  Their  Fathers 
Left  Off  —  Odd  Reasons  for  Getting  Married  —  Butterflies  of  Fashion  — 
Old  Aunt  Chloe  —  "  Tie  'Em  Together  "  —  The  Husband  Who  Proclaimed 
Himself  "a  Regular  Julius  Caesar"—  What  His  Wife  Thought  About 
It  — "Who  Keeps  This  House?"— How  the  Question  Was  Settled  — 
Family  Jars  —  "  Will  the  Sheriff  Sell  Me  ?  "  —  Power  of  Money  —  Spoils 
of  Office  — ''Grandpa,  Have  a  Weed ?"  — Old-time  Politeness  —  Dif- 
ference Between  "  Then  "  and  "  Now  "  —  "  I  Knocks  My  Boys  Down  and 
They  Ain't  Good "  — Influence  of  Example  — A  Father's  Cruel  Act  — 
"Do  It  Again,  Papa" — Henry  Clay  and  the  Farmer  —  John  on  His 
Knees  — The  Ship  Captain  and  the  Sailor  — Past  and  Present  —  Elisha 
Kent  Kane  —  A  Remarkable  Career  —  One  of  Sin's  Victims  — 
Broken  Hopes  and  Buried  Aspirations  —  The  Alabaster  Box. 


KNOW  that  it  is  pleasant 
to  imagine  our  own  era  as 
the  grandest  that  was  ever 
known,  but  let  us  turn  the 
cool,  calm  eye  of  reflection 
on  our  boastings  and  see 
how  much  that  seems  gold, 
shrivels  here  and  there  into  tinsel. 
When  progress  touches  our  fancied 
interests,  what  we  call  our  rights,  — 
our  passions,  or  appetites — we  often 
cry  out  against  it  as  fanaticism.  Is  not  much  that  we  call 
refinement  a  tendency  to  ape  the*  extravagances  and  follies  of 
the  grade  above  us  in  the  social  scale,  an  effort  to  grasp  the 
shadow  or  slitter  of  an  external  existence,  to  the  wholesale 

461 


462  WHY  SOME  PEOPLE  MARRY. 

neglect  of  the  inner  life  ?  Just  as  a  certain  kind  of  liquid 
assists  in  polishing  steel  to  the  brightness  of  a  mirror,  but, 
if  not  wiped  away,  will  bite  into  the  steel,  so  I  believe  much 
of  the  so-called  refinement,  applied  to  brighter  society  may 
consume  its  very  life  by  the  rust  it  has  deposited. 

In  the  old  times  a  couple  married  for  love,  not  display,  for 
a  happy,  economical  home  and  a  plain  fireside,  —  their  best 
company,  each  other.  Now,  do  not  a  couple  often  begin  in 
surroundings  just  where  their  fathers  ended  ?  And  the  mar- 
riage relation,  with  its  hallowed  influence  from  which  ought 
to  spring  the  kindly  offices  of  domestic  love  and  the  gentle 
charities  of  social  life,  is  made  a  matter  of  barter  and  sale, 
and  family  life  is  metamorphosed  into  a  wretched  struggle 
for  fashionable  display. 

In  the  entire  history  of  the  race,  it  has  been  seen  that  just 
in  proportion  as  families  were  broken,  divided,  ajar,  mil- 
dewed in  any  way,  just  so  far  the  communities,  the  nations, 
composed  of  such  families,  bear  ineffaceable  signs  of  those 
errors. 

Nowadays,  with  what  thoughtless  haste,  for  what  frivolous 
reasons,  are  marriages  made.  One  man  marries  to  increase 
his  respectability ;  another,  to  please  his  friends ;  another,  to 
spite  his  relations ;  another,  to  procure  service  without  being 
obliged  to  pay  for  it,  his  object,  like  any  other  slaveholder's, 
being  to  secure  the  longest  hours  of  laborious  toil,  the  most 
thorough  guardianship  of  his  interests,  without  fee  or  reward 
but  the  honor  and  glory  of  serving  him  and  receiving  his 
approval.  Generous,  magnanimous  being!  We  hear  of  a 
widow,  inconsolable  for  the  loss  of  her  husband,  who  took 
another  to  keep  herself  from  fretting  over  her  loss.  Prudent 
lady !  One  young  girl  gets  married  because  the  children  had 
never  seen  a  wedding,  and  it  would  gratify  them.  A  young 
man  married  an  Irish  servant  girl.  That  was  all  right,  but 


OLD  AUNT  CHLOE'S  OPINION.  463 

he  gave  as  a  reason  that  if  he  married  in  his  own  sphere,  he 
must  keep  a  girl  for  his  wife's  service,  so  he  married  the  girl 
instead. 

It  is  well  there  are  differences  of  opinion  as  to  suitability 
and  compatibility.  A  man  once  said,  "  Now  if  everybody  had 
been  of  my  opinion,  they  would  all  have  wanted  my  old  wo- 
man ; "  another  man  said,  "  If  everybody  had  been  of  my 
opinion,  nobody  would  have  had  her."  One  girl  will  marry 
because  she  does  not  like  to  work,  and  wants  to  be  supported 
in  doing  nothing,  and  to  have  plenty  of  leisure.  I  sometimes 
see  these  silly  butterflies  fluttering  on  the  streets  in  abundance 
of  flounces,  cheap  jewelry,  and  head-gear  that  you  would  not 
break  the  second  commandment  to  worship,  for  it  is  unlike 
anything  in  the  heavens  above,  or  in  the  earth  beneath,  or  in 
the  waters  under  the  earth.  I  think  sadly  of  the  home  and 
family  of  which  they  will  make  a  wreck,  when  the  lowliest 
households  might  be,  as  many  are,  homes  of  brightness  and 
happiness. 

God  be  thanked  that  here,  in  this  marred  and  furrowed 
earth  of  ours,  the  peace  and  truth  and  love  and  goodness 
that  is  the  very  essence  of  all  home  happiness  is  the  right  of 
no  one  class,  is  the  privilege  of  the  lowliest  as  well  as  the 
loftiest.  Old  Aunt  Chloe  said,  when  asked  "When  is  de 
married  or  single  life  de  happiest  ?  "  "  Dat  depends  on  how 
dey  enjoy  demselves."  I  know  it  is  the  fashion  to  make  old 
maids  and  old  bachelors  subjects  of  ridicule  ;  but  would  it 
not  be  better  to  be  laughed  at  for  not  being  married  than 
never  to  be  able  to  laugh  because  you  are  married?  If  a 
woman  is  remarkably  neat  in  her  person,  she  '11  be  an  old 
maid.  Is  she  reserved  toward  gentlemen,  diffident,  retiring? 
Oh,  she  '11  assuredly  be  an  old  maid.  Is  she  frugal  in  her 
expenses  ?  she  '11  certainly  be  an  old  maid.  Is  she  exact  in 
her  domestic  concerns  ?  there 's  no  doubt  she  '11  be  an  old 


464  GOVERNOR  TRUMBULL'S  ADVICE. 

maid.  Is  she  kind  to  animals  ?  she  is  cut  out  for  an  old  maid. 
Neatness,  modesty,  economy,  thrift,  order,  and  humanity  seem 
to  be  the  never-failing  characteristics  of  that  terrible  creature, 
an  old  maid.  I  assure  you  they  are  not  all  fussy  bodies, 
pushing  themselves  in  everywhere,  and  loving,  above  all 
things,  to  hear  themselves  talk.  What  a  noble  list  of  spin- 
sters' names  could  be  given :  Florence  Nightingale,  Mary 
Lyon,  Miss  Carpenter,  Emily  Faithful,  Fidelia  Fisk,  Clara 
Barton,  Miss  Dix,  and  a  host  of  others.  Some  of  the  best 
women  that  have  blessed  the  world  were  of  this  class,  besides 
the  numbers  whose  presence  is  like  a  cool  shadow  on  a  sum- 
mer's day,  and  whose  quiet  lives  of  doing  and  enduring 
are  sending  rills  of  blessing  in  myriad  directions  over  the 
land. 

How  many  divorces  would  be  avoided  if  the  advice  of 
Governor  Trumbull  was  taken,  who,  when  a  friend  applied 
to  him  for  advice  about  a  divorce,  asked,  "  How  did  you  treat 
your  wife  when  you  were  courting  her?"  "Why,  I  treated 
her  as  well  as  I  could,  for  I  loved  her  dearly."  "Well,"  said 
the  Governor,  "  go  home  and  court  her  as  you  did  then,  for  a 
year,  and  come  and  tell  me  the  result."  At  the  year's  end,  it 
was,  "  My  wife  and  I  are  as  happy  as  when  we  first  married, 
and  I  mean  to  court  her  all  the  days  of  my  life."  Ah,  yes, 
and  why  should  he  not  ? 

It  is  hard  for  some  people  to  live  peaceably  together.  A 
couple,  who  were  constantly  quarrelling,  were  seated  by  the 
fireside,  where  the  cat  and  dog  were  lying  quietly  side  by 
side.  "  Ah,"  said  the  woman,  "  it 's  a  shame  we  should  be 
always  quarrelling.  See  how  peaceably  the  cat  and  dog  get 
along."  "Oh,"  growled  the  husband,  "just  tie  'em  together, 
and  then  see  how  they  '11  fight." 

It  is  amusing  to  hear  some  men  boast  of  their  government 
at  home.     One  of  this  class,  in  the  absence  of  his  wife,  invited 


JULIUS  CAESAR  AT  HOME. 


465 


some  gentlemen  friends  to  spend  an  evening  with  him.  The 
conversation  turned  on  the  marriage  relation,  when  the  host 
boasted,  "  I  am  master  in  my  own  house.  I  do  not  believe 
in  woman's  ruling.  I  do  as  I  please,  and  I  make  my  wife 
submit  to  my  rule.  I  am  a  regular  Julius  Caesar  in  my  own 


JULIUS  CAESAR'S  DOWNFALL. 

house."  Just  then  his  wife  came  in,  and  said,  "  Gentlemen, 
you  had  better  go  home,  and  Julius  Caesar  will  just  walk 
right  up-stairs  along  with  me." 

A  traveller  stopped  at  a  house  for  rest  and  refreshment. 
He  knocked  at  the  front  door,  but  no  one  responded.  He 
knocked  again,  and  with  the  same  result.  After  pounding 
away  vigorously  for  some  time  without  obtaining  an  answer, 
he  went  round  to  the  back  of  the  house,  and  found  a  little 


466 


SETTLING  A  FAMILY  DISPUTE. 


white-headed  old  man  and  his  wife  engaged  in  a  most  furious 
fight.  "  Hello  ! "  said  the  traveller,  "  hello  !  who  keeps  this 
house?"  The  little  man,  gasping  for  breath,  panted  out, 
"  Stranger,  that 's  just  what  we  are  trying  to  settle." 

There  is  a  class  of  young  women  who  are  always  on  the  look- 
out for  a  son-in-law  for  their  mother,  who  prefer  ostentation  to 
happiness,  and  a  dandy  husband  to  a  mechanic.  One  girl  is 
reported  to  have  said,  "  I  '11  marry  any  man  with  plenty  of 


INTERRUPTING  A   FAMILY   ROW. 


money,  if  he  is  so  ugly  I  have  to  scream  every  time  I  look 
at  him."  On  the  other  hand,  we  know  that  many  times  a 
man  dives  into  the  sea  of  matrimony  and  brings  up  a  pearl. 
A  bankrupt  merchant  returned  home  one  night  and  said 
to  his  wife,  "My  dear,  I  am  ruined;  everything  we  have 
is  in  the  hands  of  the  sheriff."  After  a  few  moments  of 
silence,  his  noble  wife,  looking  him  calmly  in  the  face,  said, 
"Will  the  sheriff  sell  you?"  "No."  "Will  he  sell  me?" 
"  No,  no,"  "  Then  don't  say  we  have  lost  everything.  All 
that  is  most  profitable  to  us,  manhood,  womanhood,  remains ; 


THE  POWER  OF  MONEY.  467 

we  have  but  lost  the  result  of  our  skill  and  industry;  we 
may  make  another  fortune  if  our  hearts  and  hands  are  left 
us."  If  men  and  women  would  take  as  much  pains  to  hold 
each  other  as  they  do  to  catch  each  other,  there  would  be 
fewer  unhappy  marriages.  The  marriage  relation  touches 
with  beauty  or  blight,  with  fragrance  or  ill  savor,  every  after- 
hour  of  life  and  of  influence ;  yes,  it  takes  hold  of  eternity  in 
its  outcome. 

As  a  people,  we  boast  of  our  independence.  True,  we  are 
republicans,  and  yet  we  have  a  king ;  we  are  Christians,  and 
yet  we  worship  the  meanest  of  all  gods,  and  bow  the  knee  to 
Mammon.  The  purse-bearing  scoundrel  is  honored,  while  the 
moneyless  person  is  despised.  Even  the  law  can  do  little  for 
me  if  I  have  not  the  cash,  and  there  seems  to  be  one  legisla- 
tion for  the  poor  and  another  for  the  rich ;  the  moneyed  villain 
is  out  on  bail,  while  the  moneyless  one  pines  in  prison.  You 
can  scarcely  convict  a  man  of  crime  in  some  of  our  cities,  and 
the  question  too  often  is,  not  of  right  or  wrong,  guilt  or  inno- 
cence, but  wealth  or  poverty.  Almost  every  man  who  can 
command  money  can  command  an  entree  to  circles  called 
select,  from  which  a  superior  poor  man  is  debarred. 

Can  you  not  point  out  men  whose  lives  are  gross,  with  no 
redeeming  qualities  of  education,  genius,  or  refinement,  whose 
names  are  on  the  roll  of  magistrates,  judges,  and  members  of 
Congress,  and  who  are  admitted  to  society  into  which  a  poor 
man  hardly  dares  to  look?  The  colored  woman  was  right  when 
she  said,  "  'Tain't  de  white  nor  yet  de  black  folks  dat  hab  de 
most  influence  in  dis  world,  it 's  de  yaller  boys."  A  man  is 
too  often  measured  by  his  wealth  rather  than  by  his  qualities 
and  character.  Oh,  the  servile  baseness  of  money  worship, 
mothers  cast  their  children  under  the  wheels  of  this  Jugger- 
naut ;  men  grow  prematurely  gray  in  its  pursuit ;  women 
scheme  and  wreck  heart  and  soul  to  gain  its  favor;  minis- 


GREED    FOB  OFFICE. 


ters  of  the  gospel  prostrate  themselves  before  it;  and  even 

churches  strive  to  catch  the  moneyed  man,  and  pass  the 
lowly  poor  man  by  with  indifference,  or  worse.  In  the  al>- 
sorption  of  money-getting,  men  forget  their  higher  destiny. 
A  little  girl  said  to  her  mother,  "If  I  am  good,  I  shall  go  to 
heaven."  "Yes,  dear."  "Will  grandpa  be  there?"  "I  hope 
so."  "Will  you  be  there?"  "I  hope  so,  darling."  "  Will 

Jemmy     and     Susie     be     then 
k>()h,  yes,  dear,  and  papa,  too,  I 
hope."      "Oh,  no,"  said   the  child, 
M  Papa    won't    bo    there,   he    can't 
leave  the  store." 

\Ye  do  not  boast 
lunch  of  our  political 
honesty.  There  art1 
honorable  exeoptions, 
it  is  true;  but  where 
can  be  found  more 
corruption  than 
among  our  politicians? 
The  object  of  legisla- 

tion     is    the     greatest 

good  of  the  greatest 

number  ;  but  some  of 
our  politicians  understand  the  greatest  number  to  be  number 
one  It  is  a  strand  scramble  for  self,  and  for  the  spoils  of 
olliee.  What  a  mania  for  olliee  !  Anything  will  do,  if  onjj 
it  is  an  office ;  and  what  strutting  there  is  over  it!  A  man 
having  been  appointed  constable  iu  a  small  town,  one  ol  his 
children  asked,  kv  Mother,  are  we  all  Constables?"  "No, 
mv  child,  onlv  father  and  me."  In  revenue  for  some  per- 
sonal slight,  or  in  gratification  of  some  petty  malice,  some 
men  would  ruin  their  country  if  they  could,  and  when  one 


Kl.F.CTKI)    CONSTAIU.K—  "  FATIIKH    AND    MK. 


BOYS  OF  THE  PERIOD. 

party  has  thrown  them  over,  they  generally  have  strength 
enough  to  swim  to  the  other.  Well,  the  Constitution  says 
all  classes  are  to  be  fairly  represented,  so  I  suppose  that  occa- 
sionally a  fool  or  a  rogue  must  be  elected  to  represent  the 
fools  and  rogues  in  his  district. 

Is  parental  government  acknowledged  and  enforced  now 
as  it  was  in  the  old  time  ?  Our  mere  boys  are  men  now,  and 
our  mere  girls  are  fine  ladies.  They  assume  to  know  more 
than  the  old  fogies,  their  parents,  and  affect  the  most  dis- 
respectful familiarity  with  the  old  folks.  "  Grandpa,  have 
a  weed?"  "A  what?"  "A  weed,  you  know,  a  cigar." 
"  No,  sir,  I  do  not  smoke  ;  I  never  did  smoke."  "  Ah,  then, 
I'd  advise  you  never  to  begin."  They  early  evince  their 
dislike  of  system  or  work.  "I  have  the  tenderest-hearted 
boys  in  the  world,"  said  a  father ;  "  I  can't  ask  one  of  'em  to 
fetch  a  pail  of  water  but  he  busts  out  a-crying."  "  Gus,  have 
you  had  it  out  with  the  old  boy  ?  "  "  Yes,  and  what  do  you 
thing  the  undutif  ul  old  governor  says  ?  "  **  I  have  n't  an  idea." 
"Why,  he  says  I  must  do  something  to  get  my  own  living;  I 
can't  do  that,  you  know."  An  old  gentleman  said :  "  When 
I  was  a  young  man,  it  was  customary  to  lift  the  hat  when 
passing  a  schoolhouse,  nowadays  you  must  look  in  every 
direction  to  escape  a  flying  brick-bat."  How  many  of  our 
young  men  have  yet  to  learn  that  they  know  but  little !  How 
hard  for  some  young  men  to  say,  "  I  do  not  know ! "  It  is 
ridiculous  and  contemptible  to  pretend  knowledge  we  have 
never  gained.  There  is  nothing  unmanly  in  acknowledging 
ignorance.  One  of  our  conceited  youngsters,  who  had  but 
one  idea, — and  that  died  for  want  of  company, — said:  "Ah, 
I  think  Shakespeare  is  a  very  much  overrated  man." 

In  the  discipline  of  children  we  have  been  so  careful  to 
avoid  one  extreme  that  we  have  run  into  the  other. — We  are 
justly  indignant  at  the  talds  of  cruelty  to  children  in  schools, 


470  PUTTING  A  THREAT  INTO  EXECUTION. 

and  at  parents  whipping  them  to  break  their  wills,  and  at  the 
punishments  so  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  offence,  and  at 
the  exercise  of  cruel  discipline  to  make  them  good.  A  father 
said :  "  I  orders  my  boys  down  to  prayers  night  and  morning, 
and  when  they  won't  go  down,  I  knocks  'em  down,  and  yet 
they  ain't  good."  But  there  is  a  medium  between  that  and 
the  lax  discipline  of  to-day.  Children  have  no  right  to  rule 
in  the  household,  and  it  is  not  the  best  and  truest  love  that 
will  remit  punishment  for  all  offences. 

I  know  but  little,  and  therefore  can  say  but  little,  about 
the  discipline  of  children.  They  are  wonderful  creatures ; 
the  child  is,  indeed,  the  father  of  the  man ;  there  is  as  much 
human  nature  in  them  as  in  the  older  ones,  and  some  of  them 
are  hard  to  manage.  A  gentleman  told  me  that  his  little 
boy,  about  six  years  of  age,  was  in  the  habit  of  going  upon 
the  ice  while  it  was  in  a  dangerous  condition.  Finding  him 
there  one  morning,  he  said :  "  Now,  if  I  catch  you  on  the  ice 
again,  I  will  duck  you."  The  next  morning  he  found  him 
there  again,  and  declared  a  second  time :  "  Now,  if  I  find  you 
on  the  ice  again,  I  '11  duck  you."  Said  the  boy :  "  You  said 
you  would  yesterday."  The  next  morning  the  boy  was  on 
the  ice  again,  as  was  to  be  expected.  The  father  said :  "  If  I 
keep  my  word  with  my  boy,  I  must  duck  him.  I  broke  the 
ice  and  plunged  him  into  the  water.  The  first  word  he 
said  when  I  took  him  out  was,  'Do  it  again,  papa.'  I 
plunged  him  in  again.  Blowing  out  the  water  from  his 
mouth  and  nostrils,  he  gasped,  4Do  it  again,  papa.'  Four 
times  I  plunged  that  boy  under  the  water ;  each  time  it  was, 
4  Do  it  again,  papa.'  Fearing  that  another  ducking  might  be 
dangerous  to  him,  I  was  compelled  to  let  him  go,  mortified 
that  I  could  not  produce  any  impression  upon  him  by  his 
intended  punishment."  A  little  boy,  in  saying  his  prayers, 
went  on  :  "  Oh,  Lord,  bless  papa  and  mamma  and  Susie  and 


A  PRAYER  FOR   "  OLD   BESSIE."  471 

everybody  but  nasty  old  Bessie."  "  Why,  my  dear,  what  has 
Bessie  done  ?  "  "  She  stole  my  peanuts."  "  I  told  her  to 
take  away  the  peanuts ;  she  is  very  kind  and  good  to  you, 
and  that  is  a  naughty  prayer."  The  boy  being  sullen,  the 
mother  left  him  without  the  usual  good-night  kiss ;  when  she 
reached  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  she  heard  him  call,  "  Mamma, 
mamma."  "Well,  my  son,  what  is  it?"  "God  bless  old 
nasty  Bessie,  I  don't  care."  Ah,  heaven  bless  the  little  ones 
so  soon  to  take  our  places. 

In  the  matter  of  keeping  the  Sabbath,  have  we  improved 
on  the  example  of  the  early  fathers  ?  When  we  advocate  the 
strict  observance  of  the  Sabbath  Day  we  are  jeeringly  re- 
minded of  the  "  Connecticut  Blue  Laws,"  in  which,  we  are 
told,  a  man  was  prohibited  from  kissing  his  wife  en  Sundays. 
Ah,  yes !  Connecticut  Blue  Laws !  We  want  no  Connec- 
ticut Blue  Laws,  and  we  have  made  merry  over  such  pro- 
visions as  these :  "  No  one  shall  travel,  cook  victuals,  cut  hair, 
or  shave  on  the  Sabbath  Day.  No  woman  shall  kiss  her  child 
on  the  Sabbath  or  fasting  day.  No  one  shall  read  common 
prayer,  keep  Christmas  or  saint  days,  make  mince  pies, 
dance,  play  cards,  or  play  on  any  instrument  of  music  except 
the  drum,  trumpet,  and  jews-harp.  Every  male  shall  have 
his  hair  cut  round  according  to  a  cap."  Well,  'tis  a  pity, 
perhaps,  but  these  "  Blue  Laws  "  are  without  historical  foun- 
dation. The  author  of  the  fiction  was  Samuel  Peters,  a 
loyalist  and  refugee,  who  published  it  in  England  in  1781. 
Trumbull,  the  conscientious  historian  of  Connecticut,  said  of 
him  that,  of  all  men  with  whom  he  had  ever  been  acquainted, 
Dr.  Peters  was  the  least  to  be  depended  on  as  to  any  state- 
ment of  fact. 

The  test  of  the  matter  is  to  examine  the  fruit  of  the  things 
we  scorn.     Are  the  men  and  women  of  to-day,  as  a  whole, 
better,  truer,  nobler,  than  they  were  in  the  early  days  of  New 
29 


472 


A  PEEP   IXTO   THE   CABIN. 


England.  Is  not  the  greater  part  of  the  courage  and  noble- 
ness, the  truth,  and  loyalty  to  duty  and  right,  and  indeed  of 
the  stalwart  virtues  as  well  as  of  those  that  beautify  the 
lowlier  places  of  life,  the  direct  outcome  of  the  very  prin- 
ciples arid  training  in  which  we  find  weak  places  to  ridicule  ? 
When  Henry  Clay  was  visiting  Berkshire  he  asked  an  old 
farmer,  "What  do  you  raise  on  these  hills?"  "Men,"  was  the 
reply.  "Your  farms  are  ,  ,  .,  .,  ^ 

not  very  productive  ;  you 
must  work  hard  to  get  a 
crop."  "  We  do  work  hard, 
and  when  night  comes  we 
are  too  tired  to 
sin." 

You  may 
speak  sneering- 
ly  of  a  man's 
religion,  but 
you  will  trust 
him  more  for  it; 
the  mere  act  of 
worship  has  set- 
tled the  matter  "  UNPERCEIVED,  HE  OPENED  THE  CABIN  DOOR. 

A  shipmaster,  having  discharged  his  cargo  and  crew,  em- 
ployed a  sailor  to  take  charge  of  his  ship  during  his  absence 
in  the  country.  He  had  little  confidence  in  the  man  —  he 
believed  all  sailors  would  steal ;  but  as  he  could  do  no  better, 
he  put  everything  possible  under  lock  and  key.  Before  leav- 
ing for  the  country,  in  the  morning,  he  thought  he  would 
take  an  early  peep  at  his  ship.  He  quietly  stepped  on  board, 
and,  unperceived,  opened  the  cabin  door.  There  was  John  on 
his  knees,  the  Bible  opened  before  him.  He  carefully  closed 
the  door,  and,  when  John  appeared,  he  handed  him  a  bunch 


PROGRESS  OF  THE  AGE.  473 

of  keys,  "  Here,  John,  you  had  better  open  all  these  drawers 
and  trunks,  and  air  the  things.  Keep  everything  snug,  I 
shall  be  home  in  a  few  days." 

There  is  much  to  be  deplored,  and,  we  hope,  remedied. 
There  are  encouraging  improvements  in  many  directions ;  in 
a  more  universal  acknowledgment  of  the  claims  of  humanity ; 
in  our  treatment  of  the  insane,  and  the  prisoner;  in  our 
homes  for  the  aged,  the  friendless,  the  orphan,  the  street 
boys,  and  the  penitent;  in  our  reform  schools,  industrial 
schools,  refuges,  asylums,  hospitals,  and  other  benevolent 
institutions  ;  in  the  Sunday  schools,  mission  schools,  and  the 
great  Christian  institutions,  —  the  Bible  Society,  missionary 
societies,  both  home  and  foreign,  tract,  temperance,  educa- 
tional, seamen's  friend,  and  kindred  associations,  —  almost 
unknown  in  the  beginning  of  this  century ;  in  our  magnifi- 
cent system  of  free  education,  the  admiration  of  the  world ; 
in  our  colleges,  academies,  and  seminaries  of  learning ;  in  the 
recognition  of  woman's  rights,  the  emancipation  of  millions 
of  human  beings  from  bondage,  establishing  freedom  for 
every  man,  woman,  and  child  in  our  beloved  country  for- 
ever,—  all  this,  and  more,  should  give  us  courage  for  the 
future,  and,  may  be  some  excuse  for  our  boasting. 

In  some  directions,  as  in  education,  I  think  we  are  inclined 
to  the  extreme,  and  I  believe  the  graduates  of  our  colleges 
forty  years  ago  were  more  solidly  educated  than  the  gradu- 
ates of  to-day.  What  we  lack  in  quality  we  make  up  in 
quantity.  The  course  of  study  pursued  in  some  of  our  schools, 
as  published  in  their  advertisements,  fairly  makes  one's  head 
ache  to  read.  In  some  schools,  students  acquire  knowledge 
at  the  expense  of  muscle,  and  feed  the  mind  at  the  sacrifice 
of  health.  I  have  known  young  girls  who  have  studied  them- 
selves to  death,  and  others  who  have  graduated  with  systems 
broken  down  and  exhausted,  requiring  the  utmost  care,  for 


474  EDUCATION  VERSUS  HEALTH. 

years,  to  save  life  even.  I  know  some  men  who  are  broken  in 
health  to-day,  and  will  be  to  the  end,  occasioned  by  overwork 
in  their  determination  to  keep  up  and  graduate  with  honor. 
If  I  had  children,  I  think  I  would  rather  have  them  at  sixteen 
with  vigorous  health  and  fine  physiques,  though  compara- 
tively ignorant,  than  graduated  at  twenty  with  the  highest 
honors  and  broken  health,  useless  to  the  world,  sufferers  them- 
selves, and  a  burden  to  their  friends.  I  do  not  depreciate 
learning,  but  I  do  believe  in  health. 

But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  us ;  this  reckoning,  this 
observation  we  have  been,  taking  of  the  past  and  present,  the 
"now  "  and  "  then,"  in  the  morning  light  of  to-day?  Society 
is  composed  of  individuals,  each  the  centre  of  a  circle.  It  is 
to  the  individual  that  our  thoughts  turn  as  we  think  of  grand 
inventions,  mighty  reforms,  and  discoveries  that  have  blessed 
the  world.  Astronomy,  science,  revolutions,  explorations,  all 
bring  to  us  vividly  some  one  individual  associated  forever 
with  the  plan  or  leadership.  Turn  to  Arctic  explorations,  and 
at  once  there  rises  before  us  the  man  who,  at  twenty-one,  feel- 
ing himself  doomed  to  a  painful  life,  resolved  never  to  marry ; 
attacked  by  the  plague  in  Egypt,  by  the  coast-fever  in  Africa, 
by  lockjaw  in  Philadelphia ;  wounded  by  a  lance  in  Mexico 
and  reported  dead ;  smitten  with  paralysis ;  chronically  and 
acutely  afflicted ;  bearing  up  under  every  form  of  suffering ; 
ransacking  the  earth,  undertaking  gigantic  toils,  braving 
every  kind  of  danger ;  aiming  at  nothing  for  himself,  but 
dedicating  a  life  of  daring  devotion  to  the  service  of  human- 
ity, and  dying  at  the  age  of  thirty-seven, —  Elisha  Kent  Kane. 

Young  men,  you  are  to  mould  the  future ;  and  as  you 
mould  yourselves,  so  will  you  be  a  power  for  good  or  evil. 
That  was  fine  statesmanship  that,  in  a  great  public  work  of 
old  historic  times,  planned  the  repairing  of  a  battered  and 
broken-down  city's  wall,  to  be  done  by  each  man  over  against 


PAST  AND  PRESENT.  475 

his  own  house,  until  from  one  great  gate  to  another,  from  one 
eminence  to  another,  the  repairs  met,  and  the  last  cementing 
was  finished  with  such  a  universal  festival  of  gladness  as  is 
not  to  be  seen  in  our  boasted  grander  days.  Can  it  not  be  so 
with  us  ?  All  of  us  bear,  inseparably,  a  real,  sharply  denned 
relation  to  the  "  then  "  of  the  past,  to  the  golden  "  now  "  that 
is,  and  to  the  "  then  "  that  is  to  come.  One  is  gone  by,  and 
henceforth  can  only  be  a  radiant,  encouraging  star  in  memory, 
or  a  beacon  to  warn  us  off  the  breakers,  as  far  as  the  choices 
of  this  hour  are  concerned.  But  oh,  the  golden  "  now," 
freighted  with  opportunities,  with  wholesome  prickings  of 
penitent  memories,  with  its  inviting  voices,  telling  us  what  we 
can  do  for  the  world.  God  be  thanked,  each  one  of  us  can 
make  the  "now"  that  is,  the  starting-point  for  a  "then  "  shin- 
ing "more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day  ;  "  a  day  to  which 
the  light  of  our  "  now  "  will  be  but  the  shining  of  a  far-off 
Neptune. 

Young  men,  you  are  beginning  the  world  with  high  aspira- 
tions, you  will  follow  the  truth,  you  will  strive  to  win  honor, 
you  will  never  do  a  base  action,  you  will  forego  ease  and  plea- 
sure that  you  may  achieve  a  name  ;  that  is  your  ambition,  that 
is  your  desire  now.  Many  a  poor  wretch  to-day,  worn  out  and 
old,  bankrupt  in  fame,  wealth,  and  hope,  commenced  life  Avith 
as  noble  views  and  generous  schemes  as  you ;  but  weakness, 
idleness,  passion,  dissipation  have  turned  him  away,  and  the 
bark  that  sailed  out  on  the  sunny  sea  with  life  and  aspira- 
tion, now  lies  stranded  on  the  shore,  a  broken  wreck. 

How  dark  an  annal,  what  a  fearfully  mournful  sight,  that 
of  a  man  of  genius,  education,  wit,  pride,  ambition,  whose 
talents  might  have  brought  him  an  honored  immortality,  sink- 
ing down,  down,  step  by  step.  How  sad  to  trace  the  gradual 
break-down  of  dignity,  the  mental  degradation,  to  see  the 
pride  and  sensitiveness  of  such  a  man,  increasing  with  the 


476 


"DOWN,  DOWN,   STEP  BY  STEP." 


decrease  of  hope,  fortune,  and  reputation,  conscious  of  what  he 
ought  to  be  and  what  he  might  be  ;  with  scarce  a  coat  on  his 
back  or  shoes  on  his  feet,  or  a  dinner  to  give  him  strength,  01 
a  pillow  to  rest  his  head,  or  a  lodging  to  afford  him  shelter , 
with  not  a  friend  he 
has  not  disappointed, 
or  an  enemy  he  has 
not  irritated;  a 
proud,  penniless  va- 
grant, attractive  by 
his  intellectuality, 
yet  repulsive  by  his 
evil  conduct,  pride 
in  his  heart,  and 
penury  round  his 
person ;  an  old  man 
before  he  has  ceased 
to  be  young,  a  brok- 
en-down man  when 
he  should  be  green 
and  strong;  falling, 


falling,  falling,  as 
branch  after  branch 
breaks  under  him, 
and  friend  after 
friend  departs  and 
fades  in  the  distance ;  and  then  dying  without  a  friend  to 
close  his  eyes,  no  one  to  speak  to  him  of  a  Saviour,  to  tell  him 
that  for  sinners  like  him  God's  immeasurable  love  sent  the 
Redeemer  to  save,  —  tidings  that  might  have  shed  glory 
round  his  dying  bed.  Does  not  such  a  record  challenge  and 
command  our  truest  pity  ?  And  yet,  could  we  lift  the  cur- 
tain, how  many  such  wrecks  should  we  discover?  Yes, 


NOT   A   FRIEND   IN    THE   WOULD. 


TO  YOUNG  MEX.  477 

young  men,  the  future  of  yourselves  and  of  your  country  is 
in  your  hands.  The  most  loving  friend  you  have  on  earth 
cannot  alone  make  your  destiny  a  bright  one,  your  bitterest 
enemy  can  never  mar  its  essential  success  if  you  steadfastly 
abide  by  the  written  and  unwritten  eternal  laws. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  OTHERS  —  LESSONS  DRAWN  FROM  LIFE — 
HUMAN  WRECKS  —  ILLUSTRATIVE  STORIES  AND  FACTS. 

Death's  Harvest  Field  —  The  Fatal  Sliding  Scale  —  What  I  Saw  in  a  Railway 
Carriage  —  A  Terrible  Spectacle  —  Father,  Mother,  and  Child  Intoxi- 
cated —  A  Mother's  Story  —  The  Rapids  at  Niagara  Falls  —  Fascination  of 
Danger— A  Terrible  Tragedy  —  " Stand  Back!  Stand  Back!"— The 
Fatal  Plunge  —  Story  of  the  Poor  Emigrant  Woman  —  A  Mother's  Love  — 
"Fire!  Fire!"  — "Make  Way  There !"  — Temptations  of  a  Great 
City  —  An  Incident  of  Chicago  Life  —  Return  of  the  Prodigal  Son  —  A 
Scene  in  a  London  Cellar  —  A  City  Missionary's  Story  —  Horace  Greeley  — 
We  Visit  Senator  McConnell  —  His  Wretched  Appearance  —  Tender  Re- 
gard for  His  Wife  — A  Precious  Memento— "  Give  Up  the  Drink? 
Never  ! "  —  His  Awful  Death  —  A  Two-bottle  Man  —  The  Old  Scotch 
Bailie  !  — Fire-side  Thoughts  —  Captain  Creighton  and  the  Ship  "Three 
Bells  "  —  Terrible  Suspense  —  Great  Rejoicing. 

N  speaking  to  the  public  on  the 
subject  of  temperance  I  feel 
always  bound  to  speak  fairly 
and    freely    with    regard    to 
the   obstacles  in  the  way  of 
the  movement.     I   believe    I 
have  never  in  my  life  volun- 
teered an  address  to  the  peo- 
ple.    I   never    speak    unless    I    am 
invited,    and    therefore    only   speak 
where  people  desire  to  hear  me ;  and 
if  they  come,  they  must  expect  that 

I  shall  utter  my  opinions  fully  and  fearlessly.  I  do  not  ask 
you  to  believe  what  I  say  simply  because  I  say  it,  for  I  am 
liable  to  error  and  misapprehension ;  all  I  ask  of  you  is  to 
put  what  I  say  into  the  crucible  and  set  it  over  the  furnace, 
478 


DEATH  AS  A  TEMPERANCE  WORKER.  479 

and  try  it  out,  and  if  among  the  white  ashes  of  error  you 
find  one  sparkling  gem  of  truth,  that  is  worth  something; 
take  that,  and  let  the  white  ashes  go  to  the  winds. 

Engaging  in  this  work  we  feel  that  we  are  entering  into  a 
mighty  moral  conflict  and  warfare  against  instrumentalities 
that  tend  to  promote  and  perpetuate  a  great  evil.  Death 
alone,  that  gaunt,  grizzly  reformer,  would  sweep  drunkenness 
from  the  land  in  twenty-five  years,  if  there  were  no  more 
drunkards  made.  Of  whom  are  drunkards  made?  Thank 
God,  not  of  total  abstainers.  No  man  takes  one  step  from 
total  abstinence  down  to  drunkenness.  Every  individual 
who  becomes  intemperate  becomes  so  by  taking  the  first  step 
and  going  down  the  fatal  sliding  scale  by  degrees  to  the 
ditch.  Among  the  generation  now  living  there  are  intemper- 
ate men,  horrible  as  it  is,  whom  we  have  no  expectation  of 
saving  ;  but  we  look  with  hope  to  the  coming  generation,  and 
feel  that  a  great  part  of  our  business  is  to  build  a  barrier 
between  the  unpolluted  lip  and  the  intoxicating  cup.  There- 
fore we  appeal  to  fathers  and  mothers,  brothers  and  sisters, 
guardians  and  teachers,  to  help  us  in  the  work  of  breaking 
down  the  instrumentalities  that  tend  to  promote  and  per- 
petuate the  evil  of  drunkenness.  Chief  among  these  instru- 
mentalities are  the  social  drinking  customs  of  society,  — 
useless  in  themselves,  and  productive  of  evils,  the  extent  of 
which  we  shall  never  know  until  that  bright  day  dawns,  for 
which  all  other  days  were  made,  when  we  shall  see  things  as 
they  are.  I  have  been  astonished  to  see  mothers  who  love 
their  children  giving  them  that  which  may,  not  must,  produce 
results  fearful  to  contemplate.  The  mother,  when  she  gives 
the  child  drink,  has  no  idea  that  such  results  will  be  pro- 
duced. 

On  one  occasion,  when  riding  in  a  railway  carriage  from 
Liverpool  to  Halifax,  England,  a  lady,  gentleman,  and  a  little 


480  A  MOTHER'S   THOUGHTLESS  ACT. 

child,  —  a  beautiful  boy,  a  lovely  creature  to  look  upon,  — 
entered  the  compartment.  By  their  appearance  they  evi- 
dently moved  in  genteel  societ}^  I  have  noticed  that  persons 
who  carry  bottles  with  them  generally  get  faint  at  the  outset 
of  the  journey.  Soon  after  they  entered,  a  bottle  and  rail- 
way glass  were  produced.  I  do  not  know  how  much  drink 
the  bottle  held,  but  I  know  how  many  glasses,  for  I  counted, 
and  there  were  eight.  The  gentleman  drank  one,  the  lady 
five,  and  the  child  two.  The  child,  however,  would  not  have 
had  the  second  if  it  had  not  cried  for  it.  The  lady  settled 
herself  comfortably  in  the  cushions,  shut  her  eyes,  and  opened 
her  mouth ;  her  under  lip  dropped  as  if  she  had  not  strength 
to  hold  it  up ;  and  though  it  is  not  polite  to  say  that 
a  lady  snored,  she  did,  and  that  most  vigorously.  But  what 
of  the  child?  He  was  positively  drunk.  In  ten  minutes  his 
face  was  marred  as  if  a  foul  hand  had  passed  over  it ;  the 
spirit  in  the  wine  had  sent  the  blood  through  the  tender 
vessels  into  the  child's  face,  the  eyes  looked  bloodshot,  and, 
from  being  a  beautiful  child  to  look  upon,  he  became  a  perfect 
nuisance,  so  much  so  that  I  was  glad  to  leave  the  carriage. 
But  who  will  dare  to  say  that  mother  did  not  love  her  child? 
Had  he  been  lying  upon  a  sick-bed,  she  would  have  wound 
her  loving  arms  around  him  to  save  him,  if  possible,  from 
pain  and  anguish ;  she  would  have  spent  days  and  nights  of 
waking  agony  to  shield  the  child  from  suffering ;  yet  she  was 
giving  him  that  which  might  produce  an  appetite  that  would 
become  a  master-passion,  to  gratify  which  he  would  barter  all 
the  jewels  that  God  had  given  him,  —  jewels  worth  all  the 
kingdoms  of  the  earth,  for  "what  shall  a  man  give  in  ex- 
change for  his  soul  ?  " 

A  lady  said  to  me  while  we  wTere  riding  in  her  carriage : 
"I  wish  you  could  get  my  boy  to  sign  the  pledge;  he  is 
between  eight  and  nine  years  of  age,  but  he  is  a  complete 


IRRESISTIBLE  IMPULSE.  481 

little  winebibber.  We  only  allow  him  half  a  glass  occasion- 
ally, but  he  will  watch  for  the  wine,  and  even  count  the  days 
to  the  time  when  he  expects  to  have  some."  I  suppose  it 
would  be  outrageous  for  me  to  say  that  that  mother  was  des- 
titute of  natural  affection,  but  there  seems  to  be  a  perfect 
fascination  in  the  drinking  customs  of  society,  for  fathers  and 
mothers  do  not  seem  willing  to  give  up  a  paltry  glass  of  wine 
or  ale  to  save  their  own  children. 

A  party  went  from  Buffalo  to  spend  a  week  or  two  at 
Niagara  Falls.  Among  them  was  a  beautiful  child;  her 
golden  hair  hung  upon  her  snowy  shoulders ;  she  was  the  life 
of  the  company ;  she  plucked  flowers,  twined  them  into 
wreaths  for  her  own  peerless  brow,  and  presented  bouquets 
to  her  friends.  There  was  also  there  a  young  man  just  from 
college,  rather  conceited,  yet  high-spirited  and  noble,  just  the 
kind  of  a  man  who  would  climb  the  bare  face  of  the  rock  and 
rob  the  eagle  of  her  nest.  Those  of  you  who  have  visited 
Niagara  Falls  know  that  just  beyond  the  dashing,  foaming 
waters  of  the  rapids,  the  river,  on  the  American  side,  becomes 
almost  as  smooth  as  polished  glass,  eighty  or  one  hundred 
yards  before  it  takes  its  leap.  Years  ago  it  had  become  quite 
a  fascination  for  people  to  look  at  that  water ;  lying  on  their 
faces  they  could  touch  it  with  their  fingers.  You  have  been, 
perhaps,  at  a  railway  station  when  an  express  train  dashed  by, 
and  if  you  have  stood  on  the  very  edge  of  the  platform  you 
may  have  felt  an  impulse  almost  irresistible  to  jump  upon  the 
train,  —  an  impulse  requiring  nerve  to  resist  it ;  there  was 
fascination,  but  danger,  in  it.  Small  stakes,  then,  were 
placed  in  the  ground  at  the  falls,  with  straps  to  fasten  at  the 
ankles  of  those  who  wished  to  lie  down  and  touch  the  water. 

The  young  man  laughed  at  the  precaution.  "Precau- 
tions," said  he,  "for  timid  women  and  silly  men  ;  I  have  no 
need  of  them,  ha,  ha ! "  He  stood  on  the  edge  and  looked 


482  A  TRAGEDY  AT  NIAGARA  FALLS. 

into  the  water;  the  ladies  screamed.  That  only  increased 
his  bravado ;  he  laughed  at  them,  and  still  kept  his  dangerous 
position.  They  cried,  "  Stand  back,  stand  back  !  "  He  turned 
and  caught  up  the  little  child  who  was  passing  behind  him. 
"  My  darling,"  he  said,  "  I  will  hold  you  where  no  child  was 
ever  yet  held,"  and  he  held  her  over  the  rapids.  He  might 
have  held  her  there  for  an  hour ;  he  was  a  strong  man,  and 
had  a  firm  grip  of  the  child.  But  she  was  afraid ;  she  saw 
the  water  beneath  her,  and  grew  nervous ;  she  gave  a  cry,  one 
twist  —  and  he  dropped  her.  With  a  sharp  cry,  "  God  have 
mercy  on  me !  "  he  leaped  after  her,  and  both  went  over  the 
falls,  and  neither  their  bodies  or  a  particle  of  their  clothing 
were  ever  found  afterward.  Now,  I  say  to  you,  sir,  I  say  to 
you,  madam,  if  you  give  your  child  drink,  you  are  holding 
him  over  the  rapids.  You  may  hold  him  there  safely,  ninety- 
nine  out  of  a  hundred  may  hold  him  safely;  but  he  may 
be  more  nervous  than  you  dream  of,  you  may  not  have  that 
control  of  him  you  suppose  you  have,  he  may  slip  and  go 
over,  and  in  that  case  your  hands  are  not  clear  of  his  blood. 

I  know  the  mother  would  rather  God  would  smite  her 
child  with  any  disease  under  the  sun  than  that  he  should  be  a 
drunkard.  It  is  a  fearful  thing  for  a  child  to  be  burned  to 
death,  but  you  would  rather  that  than  have  him  die  a  drunkard. 
I  remember  reading  in  a  paper  an  account  of  the  burning  of 
Harper's  establishment  some  years  since.  Half  a  column 
was  devoted  to  an  account  of  the  loss  of  property  and  more 
than  half  a  column  to  a  circumstance  connected  with  the  fire. 

An  emigrant  woman  had  just  then  landed  at  New  York  with 
two  children  and  all  her  property.  She  left  them  in  the  Mor- 
ton House,  in  Franklin  Square,  and  went  to  Forty-third  Street 
to  find  her  sister,  who  had  offered  her  a  temporary  home  for 
herself  and  her  children ;  and,  glad  at  heart,  the  woman  has- 
tened back  for  the  children  and  the  property.  Passing  along, 


FIKE!    FIRE! 


483 


she  heard  the  cry  of  "  Fire,  fire  ! "  and  the  bells  rang  out  a 
stirring  peal.  She  paid  no  attention  till  she  heard  some  one 
ask  :  "  Where  is  the  fire  ?  "  The  reply  was,  "  In  Franklin 
Square."  The  Morton  House  was  there,  and  her  children 
were  in  that  house.  To  her  there  was  only  one  side  of  that 
square,  and 
only  one  house 
on  that  side.  A 
fire-engine  rat- 
tled through 
the  streets.  She 
followed  it ;  the 
people  made 
way  for  it  and 
closed  up  the 
gap  again  like 
waves  of  the 
sea,  and  she 
was  shut  out. 
Her  cry  was, 
"My  children, 
my  children ! 
Let  me  pass !  " 
"  Stand  back, 
stand  back ! " 
said  the  crowd. 

"  I  cannot,  let  me  pass  !  "  A  policeman  came  up  and  asked, 
"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  "  My  children,"  she  said,  "  are  in 
the  Morton  House."  "  Every  individual,"  said  he,  "  in  that 
house  is  saved,  but  all  the  property  is  lost.  Now,  take  my 
hand.  Make  way  there."  And  he  dragged  the  woman  through 
the  crowd  and  brought  her  in  front  of  the  burning  building. 
There,  on  a  heap  of  broken  furniture,  were  her  two  children, 


THERE  'S   MOTHER." 


484  BREAKING  A  MOTHER'S  HEART. 

with  their  hands  folded,  and  one  of  them  called  out,  "There's 
mother."  That  mother  was  a  happy  woman ;  she  had  lost 
every  bit  of  property  she  possessed  on  the  face  of  the  earth, 
•but  her  bonny  bairns  were  saved. 

Now,  there  is  not  a  mother  who  would  not  rather  see  her 
•child  burned  to  death,  and  have  its  pure  spirit  take  its  flight 
into  the  bosom  of  Him  who  said,  "  Suffer  little  children  to 
come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not,"  than  see  it  grow  up  in 
pride  and  manliness  and  become  a  drunkard.  She  had  rather 
take  the  little  bits  of  charred  bones  raked  out  from  the  ashes 
of  the  fire,  and  bury  them  with  hope,  than  follow  her  poor, 
drunkard  son  to  the  grave  with  no  hope  in  his  death.  Ah,  I 
tell  you,  I  have  found  the  most  comfortless  creature  on  earth 
the  mother  who  has  buried  a  drunken  son. 

A  young  man  from  the  country,  the  son  of  a  minister  of 
the  gospel,  went  to  Chicago  to  better  his  condition  and  make 
money.  He  fell  into  dissipated  habits,  consorted  with  the  low 
.and  vile,  to  his  own  disgrace  and  the  sorrow  and  grief  of  his 
friends.  He  was  a  fine,  handsome,  noble-looking  boy  before 
he  was  stained  and  soiled.  His  mother,  who  loved  him  dearly, 
induced  a  gentleman  to  see  him  and  plead  with  him  to  reform. 
The  interview  was  exceedingly  interesting.  After  a  few  com- 
monplace words,  the  question  was  abruptly  asked,  "Have 
you  not  a  good  mother?"  "Yes,  as  good  a  mother  as  ever 
boy  had."  "  Do  you  love  your  mother  ?  "  "  Indeed  I  love 
her."  "  Do  you  know  you  are  killing  your  mother,  breaking 
her  heart  ?  Hear  me.  Only  last  Sabbath  your  mother  rose 
in  church  at  the  singing ;  her  book  dropped  from  her  hand, 
and  she  fell  backward,  fainting.  One  of  your  father's  dea- 
cons helped  her  home,  and  the  whisper  went  round,  4  That  is 
the  work  of  her  boy.  Last  evening  she  received  a  letter  from 
a  friend  in  Chicago,  telling  her  that  the  boy  she  loved  was 
frequenting  low  saloons  and  notoriously  bad  company.  She 


A  MOTHER'S   LOVE. 


485 


slept  but  little  last  night,  and,  as  you  see,  fainted  in  church. 
Poor  woman,  she  is  growing  very  pale  and  thin  ;  it  is  too  bad.'  " 
The  young  man  cried  out,  "  It  is  too  bad,  and  I  will  never 
drink  again."  But  he  did,  and  soon  grew  worse.  At  last,  sick, 
penniless,  homeless,  friendless,  and  forlorn,  he  determined 
to  return  home  to  his  mother.  Ah,  that 's  it,  young  men. 

When  friends  are 
gone,  when  compan- 
ions have  left  you 
alone,  when  reputa- 
tion and  means  are 
gone,  when  health 
and  strength  are 
gone,  then  the  long- 
ing comes  for  the 
mother.  "Take  me 
to  my  mo  t  h  e  r, 
though  all  the  world 
turn  from  me,  she 
will  receive  me  and 

care  for  me."     He  went  home  to  die,  and 
the   mother   said,    "  When  I  look  at  my 
"  IT  SEEMS  BUT  YES-   boy   lying   dead,  it   seems  but  yesterday 

rp-pT>|-v   *  -vr    " 

that  his  father  sprinkled  on  his  forehead 
the  water  of  baptism,  and  there  he  lies  dead,  and  my  heart  is 
broken." 

Remember,  drunkenness  does  not  exist  altogether  among 
the  lower  orders  of  society.  Some  people  say,  "I  advise  you 
to  go  among  the  outcasts  and  talk  to  the  people  there."  In 
my  opinion,  drunkenness  has  been  a  curse  to  the  middle  and 
the  upper  classes  of  society,  as  much  as  it  has  been  to  the 
lowest.  I  consider  a  man  as  much  a  drunkard  if  he  lies  upon 
his  bed  of  down,  and  rolls  from  it  upon  his  magnificent  car- 


486 


A  SCENE  IN  A  LONDON  CELLAR. 


pet  in  a  sumptuous  apartment,  with  mirrors  all  around  him 
showing  him  his  own  bestiality — as  much  a  debased,  de 
graded,  and  imbruted  sot  as  the  man  who  lies  in  the  kennel, 
his  hair  soaking  in  the  filth  of  the  gutter ;  it  is  only  the  cir- 
cumstances by  which  he  is  surrounded  which  save  him  from 
the  position  of  the  other.  The  drunkard,  in  whatever  station 
he  may  be,  who  stupefies  his  intellect,  dethrones  his  reason, 
beclouds  his  mind,  puts  an  extinguisher  on  the  light  that 
God  has  given  him,  commits  as  grievous  a  sin  against  God 
and  his  own  soul  as  the  man  who  wallows  in  the  lowest 
kennel. 

A  city  missionary  once  showed  me  a  cellar  in  St.  Giles's, 
London.  "  There,"  he  said,  "  I  once  saw  a  man  on  his  death- 
bed—  a  heap  of  rotten  straw  —  who,  six  years  ago,  hung 
pictures  in  the  Suffolk  gallery,  and  moved  in  the  best  circles 
of  society.  I  asked,  'What  has  brought  you  to  this?'  and 
lifting  up  his  emaciated  arms  and  fingers  like  the  claws  of  an 
unclean  bird,  he  cried  out,  as  his  thin  lips  drew  tight  across 
his  teeth  and  the  rattle  in  his  throat  told  of  the  approaching 
end,  '  The  bottle,  the  bottle,  the  accursed  bottle  brought  me 
to  this.'"  And  that  is  the  story  of  thousands  who  die  and 
are  remembered  no  more. 

In  Sunderland  I  was  shown  a  picture  painted  by  a  person 
who  was  at  one  time  an  intimate  acquaintance  of  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  and  spent  weeks  with  him  at  Abbottsford.  He  would 
paint  pictures  on  tin,  the  heads  of  barrels,  or  on  plain  boards, 
and  send  his  wife  or  daughters  out  to  sell  them.  They  re- 
ceived Is.  6c?.,  2s.,  or  2s.  Qd.  for  them;  and  those  who  have 
them  now  prize  them  as  works  of  art.  I  have  one  of  them  in 
my  library.  The  man  died  miserably,  and  his  wife  and  two 
daughters  became  intemperate  and  degraded. 

A  city  missionary  once  asked  me  if  I  was  to  remain  in 
London.  I  said,  "  I  leave  at  two  o'clock."  "  I  am  sorry  for 


A  CITY  MISSIONARY'S  STORY.  437 

that,"  lie  said,  "for  there  is  a  young  man  I  should  like  to 
save,  and  I  would  be  glad  if  you  could  see  him.  He  is  the 
son  of  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  well  educated,  speaks  five 
languages  fluently  —  a  noble-hearted  young  man ;  he  has 
taught  some  of  our  first  ministers  elocution,  and  now  he  is 
herding  with  the  lowest  of  the  low,  in  the  vilest  lodging- 
houses  of  the  city.  When  I  picked  him  up,  he  had  fallen 
from  faintness  arising  from  want  of  food." 

The  vicar  of  a  certain  parish  stood  up  in  Cheltenham  and 
said:  "I  was  asked  to  visit  the  union  to  see  a  poor  wretch 
who  had  broken  a  bloodvessel.  I  found  that  he  was  the  son 
of  a  beneficed  clergyman,  and  that  his  mother  was  living  in 
affluence.  I  sent  word  to  her  that  her  sick  boy  was  with  me, 
and  she  sent  this  reply :  '  We  have  cast  him  off  forever.'  I 
obtained  money  from  her  sufficient  to  purchase  an  invalid's 
chair,  and  for  three  months  he  drew  it  about  for  his  bread, 
and  kept  a  little  school  at  night  to  eke  out  his  scanty  means. 
But  his  appetite  overcame  him  in  temptation ;  he  sold  his 
chair  and  his  books,  and  staggered  out  on  his  way  to 
Gloucester  as  miserable  as  ever." 

Drunkenness  is  confined  to  no  rank  or  country ;  it  is  an 
evil  that  permeates  every  class,  causing  misery,  wretchedness, 
and  woe.  It  is  pitiful  indeed  to  witness,  and  painful  to 
record,  the  results  which  it  produces.  When  that  United 
States  senator  signed  the  total  abstinence  pledge,  the  news 
was  telegraphed  all  over  the  United  States,  and  there  was  a 
universal  expression  of  delight.  Yet,  some  few  years  after- 
wards, three  gentlemen  went  to  see  him,  and  he  said :  "  I 
know  why  you  have  come  to  see  me.  It  is  of  no  use.  I 
have  been  Governor  of  this  State  for  four  years,  and  I  have 
been  Senator  of  the  United  States  for  eight  years.  I  have  sat 
at  the  tables  of  the  good  and  the  great  and  the  gifted.  Now 
Look  at  me.  A  man  thrust  me  out  of  a  saloon  three  days 

30 


488  A  DRAMATIC  SCENE. 

ago  because  I  had  not  a  dime  to  pay  for  the  whiskey  I  had 
drunk." 

I  remember  very  well  Felix  G.  McComiell,  of  Alabama. 
Horace  Greeley  was  in  Washington,  and  he,  in  company  with 
another  gentleman,  said  to  me,  "  Will  you  go  with  us  and  see 
McConnell?"  I  said,  "Yes."  We  went  to  see  him.  He 
sat  in  front  of  the  hotel,  among  the  usual  crowd  of  loafers, 
his  feet  pushed  into  an  old  broken  pair  of  India-rubber  shoes, 
treating  those  who  came  up,  and  setting  the  negro  boys 
scrambling  for  coppers.  He  had  a  cane  in  his  hand,  and  on 
the  top  was  engraven,  — 

"  Felix  G.  McConnell,  Alabama.  O  God,  have  mercy  on  me." 
We  entered  into  conversation  with  him.  Mr.  Greeley  knew 
his  family  and  alluded  to  his  wife.  Then  he  said,  "  Mr. 
Greeley,  you  know  my  wife.  She  is  a  good  woman."  He 
then  took  a  dirty  rag  out  of  his  pocket,  unfolded  it,  and  came 
to  a  piece  of  clean  paper :  he  opened  that  and  showed  us  a 
beautifully  bound  copy  of  the  Bible.  Said  he:  "My  wife 
gave  me  this  when  I  left  home.  She  is  a  good  woman.  She 
put  my  name  in  it,  as  you  see.  I  am  trying  to  keep  the  book 
clean  until  I  go  home."  We  earnestly  pleaded  with  him  to  give 
up  the  drink.  I  shall  never  forget  how  he  suddenly  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and,  throwing  his  cane  on  the  floor  with  a  loud 
crash,  said,  "  Gentlemen,  you  ask  me  to  give  up  the  drink. 
Ask  me  to  sever  my  right  hand  from  the  wrist,  and  I  can  do 
it ;  but  to  give  up  the  drink  —  NEVER  ! "  Six  days  after  that 
he  cut  himself  all  to  pieces  with  a  bowie  knife,  in  the  St. 
Charles  Hotel.  That  was  his  end. 

Now  we  ask  you,  for  the  sake  of  others,  to  give  up  that 
which  may  be  a  gratification  to  yourself.  That  is  the  nobility 
of  our  enterprise ;  it  requires  benevolence,  and  true  benevo- 
lence always  costs  something.  But  some  say,  "  Will  nothing 
but  total  abstinence  do  ?  "  To  use  a  Yankee  expression,  "  I 


PORT-WINE  LEGISLATION.  491 

guess  not."  What  else  would  you  have  ?  Shall  it  be  occa- 
sional abstinence  ?  That  is  what  every  drunkard  is  obliged 
to  come  to,  —  he  must  come  to  that,  sometimes,  to  save  his 
life,  —  and,  as  the  prison  surgeons  say,  he  is  forced  to  adopt 
it  when  he  gets  into  jail.  It  must  be  occasional  or  total.  Sir 
William  Gull  says  it  may  be  more  damaging  to  a  moderate 
drinker  than  to  a  drunkard,  because  the  one  may  be  able  to 
carry  his  system  of  daily  drinking  for  a  long  time,  whereas 
the  other  man,  who  was  incapable  of  drinking  so  much,  would 
be  obliged  to  discontinue  the  practice  ;  and  in  reply  to  the 
question,  "  What  would  you  say  about  our  forefathers,  who 
drank  two  or  three  bottles  of  port  wine  daily,  till  they  were 
seventy  or  eighty  years  of  age?"  he  said,  "I  have  noticed  that 
their  legislation  has  often  to  be  reversed." 

"  Oh,"  say  some,  "  use  it  moderately."  What  is  "  mode- 
rately?" You  cannot  measure  it,  you  cannot  define  it  by 
quantity  or  quality.  What  is  moderation  to  one  man  is  death 
to  another.  You  cannot  measure  moderation  for  anyone  else 
but  yourself,  and  even  that  is  very  doubtful ;  and  every  man 
who  becomes  a  drunkard  becomes  so  in  striving  to  measure 
moderation  for  himself,  and  going  beyond  the  bounds  when  he 
was  not  aware  of  it.  Some  moderate  drinkers  would  drink 
me  raving  mad  in  forty-eight  hours  ;  some  would  drink  me. 
dead  in  a  month.  Some  men  are  "  Mighty  to  drink  wine,  and 
men  of  strength  to  mingle  strong  drink; "  and  I  find  the  Bible 
does  not  pronounce  a  blessing  on  such.  The  words,  I  believe, 
are,  "  Woe  unto  them  that  are  mighty  to  drink  wine,  and  men 
of  strength  to  mingle  strong  drink." 

A  noble-hearted  total  abstainer,  a  wealthy  man,  once  said 
to  me :  "  Mr.  Gough,  there  are  some  circumstances  of  my  life 
that  I  would  like  to  forget.  I  was  what  is  called  a  bottle-and- 
a-half,  or  a  two-bottle  man.  I  have  taken  more  than  two  bot- 
tles full  at  a  time,  and  was  never  drunk  in  my  life.  But  when 


492  CLAIMS  OF  POSTERITY. 

I  remember  the  young  men  who  started  in  business  with  me,  — 
how  I  used  to  drink  them  drunk,  and  glory  in  it,  —  the  vision 
will  sometimes  come  to  me  of  these  young  men  as  I  have  seen 
them,  young  men  not  as  stolid  as  I  am  in  their  temperament, 
upon  whose  brain  the  influence  of  drink  was  fearful.  I  trained 
myself  to  do  it,  and  I  thought,  forsooth,  that  I  could  train 
others.  I  used  to  say  to  young  men,  in  pure  friendship,  not 
dreaming  of  harm :  '  I  see  that  at  table  you  get  excited,  that 
your  face  becomes  flushed ;  you  take  too  much  wine,  and 
that's  not  gentlemanly.  Don't  drink  your  pint  of  wine  at 
once  ;  begin  with  three  glasses  or  four,  and  don't  take  any  till 
you  have  eaten  your  fish ;  don't  take  it  too  fast  or  too  slow, 
don't  mix  it,  and,  above  everything,  avoid  ale  or  beer  ;  and  so 
by  degrees  you  will  be  able  to  drink  your  bottle  and  a  half.' 
But  not  one  in  ten  could  train  himself.  While  I  did  it,  others 
fell  into  drunkenness,  and  I  feel  as  if  I  was  in  some  degree 
responsible  for  it." 

I  do  not  appeal  to  the  selfish  man,  to  the  man  who  says : 
"  I  don't  see  why  I  should  be  called  upon  to  give  up  my  glass 
of  wine  because  others  make  beasts  of  themselves.  I  can 
take  care  of  myself,  and  other  people  must  take  care  of  them- 
selves." To  such  persons  I  have  not  a  word  to  say.  You 
stand  there,  the  incarnation  of  a  selfish  principle,  the  very 
impersonation  of  pure,  unadulterated  selfishness.  We  do 
not  expect  you  to  join  us  in  this  enterprise,  and  if  you  brought 
your  selfishness  with  you,  you  would  do  us  no  good.  I  heard 
of  an  old  bailie,  in  Scotland,  who  opposed  an  improvement 
that  was  proposed  for  the  benefit  of  the  town.  "I  cannot 
see,"  he  said,  "that  it  will  benefit  us  at  all."  "But,"  it 
was  replied,  "  posterity  will  be  benefited."  "  Posterity  !  " 
said  he,  "  posterity !  I  have  yet  to  learn  that  posterity 
ever  did  anything  for  us ;  and  I  don't  vote  for  the  measure." 
Now  we  do  not  appeal  to  such  people  ;  we  appeal  to  men  and 


SYMPATHY  FOR  OTHERS.  493 

women  with  hearts  to  feel,  and  I  believe  we  shall  not  appeal 

in  vain. 

There  is  a  deep-seated  sympathy  in  the  minds  of  most  men 

for  the  sufferings  of  others,  though  they  may  not  be  related 

to  them.     Last  year  was  prolific  in  shipwrecks,  and  when  I 

have  been  a  hundred  miles 
from  the  seashore,  and 
heard  the  wind  whistling 


AT   SEA. — TEMPEST-TOSSED. 


AT   HOME. — FIKESIDE   THOUGHTS. 

loudly,  we   have   sat  by  the 
fireside  and  spoken  feelingly 

of  those  who  might  be  exposed  to  the  pitiless,  pelting  storm  ; 
and  in  many  a  household  have  I  heard  an  earnest  petition 
that  God  would  have  mercy  on  the  tempest-tossed  mariner, 
and  I  have  inquired  if  they  had  any  friends  at  sea.  No, 
not  a  friend,  relative,  or  acquaintance;  but  they  felt  for 
those  who  had,  and  it  was  good  to  remember  at  the  family  altar 
those  who  were  not  akin  to  them,  bearing  them  up  on  the 
wings  of  faith  to  Him,  beseeching  that  He  would  protect 


494  AN  OVERDUE  STEAMER. 

them.  I  remember  when  reading  of  the  wrecks  that  wero 
strewed  upon  the  shores  of  Tynemouth,  how  deeply  I  was 
moved  at  the  narrative  of  the  noble  pilots  putting  off  in  the 
lifeboat  to  save  passengers  and  crew.  All  honor  to  those  noble, 
true-hearted  sailors.  I  rejoiced,  too,  as  much  as  anyone,  when 
New  York  tendered  the  freedom  of  the  city  to  Captain  Creigh- 
toii  of  the  "  Three  Bells,"  for  lying  by  the  "  San  Francisco  " 
night  and  day,  when  he  believed  the  vessel  would  soon  sink  if 
something  was  not  done  to  save  her ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  I 
could  walk  till  my  feet  ached  to  shake  the  noble-hearted 
captain  by  the  hand,  and  thank  him  for  what  he  did  for  suf- 
fering humanity. 

I  was  in  the  city  of  New  York  when  the  question  was  so 
often  asked,  "Any  news  of  the  'Atlantic?'"  and  the  an- 
swer, day  after  day,  was,  "No."  She  had  been  due  ten, 
fifteen,  eighteen  days.  "Any  news?"  "No."  Telegraphic 
despatches  came  from  all  quarters,  "Any  news  of  the  'Atlan- 
tic?'" and  the  word  thrilled  back  again,  sinking  deep  into  the 
hearts  of  those  who  had  friends  on  board,  "  No."  Twenty  days , 
twenty-one  days,  twenty-two  days  passed,  and  people  began  to 
be  excited.  One  morning  the  gun's  booming  told  that  a  ship 
was  coming  up  the  Narrows.  People  went  out  upon  the  Bat- 
tery, on  Castle  Garden,  even  on  the  tops  of  houses,  to  see 
and  hear.  It  was  an  English  ship ;  the  union-jack  was  flying ; 
they  watched  her  till  she  came  to  her  mooring  at  Jersey  City, 
and  their  hearts  sank  within  them.  They  sent  hastily  across, 
"Any  news  of  the  'Atlantic?'"  "Hasn't  the  'Atlantic' 
arrived?"  "No."  "She  sailed  fifteen  days  before  we  did, 
and  we  have  heard  nothing  of  her."  And  then  people  said, 
"  She  has  gone  after  the  '  President.' '  Twenty-five,  twenty- 
six,  twenty-seven  days  passed,  and  those  who  had  friends  on 
board  began  to  prepare  for  their  mourning.  Twenty-nine, 
thirty  days  passed,  and  the  captain's  wife  was  so  ill  that  the 


SUSPENSE  AND  REJOICING.  495 

doctor  said  she  would  die  if  her  suspense  was  not  removed. 
Men  began  to  shake  their  heads,  and  to  whisper  to  each 
other,  "A  sad  thing  about  the  'Atlantic,'  is  n't  it?"  "Yes, 
indeed,  it  is." 

One  bright,  beautiful  morning,  guns  were  heard,  and  a  ship 
was  seen  coming  up  the  Narrows ;  an  immense  crowd  was 
again  collected.  They  looked  through  their  spy-glasses,  and 
saw  again  a  British  ship  with  the  union-jack  flying.  How 
men's  hearts  beat  as  they  watched  the  ship  until  she  came  to 
her  moorings.  The  last  hope  seemed  dying  out  when  some  one 
cried  out,  "  She  has  passed  her  moorings  and  is  steaming  up 
the  river."  So  she  is.  Every  eye  was  fixed  upon  her ;  peo- 
ple wiped  the  dimness  from  their  eyes,  that  they  might  see 
more  distinctly.  The  ship  steamed  up  the  river,  and,  making 
a  circuit,  came  right  up  to  the  wharves  where  the  people  were 
assembled  like  clusters  of  bees.  Then  they  hoisted  flags ;  an 
officer  leaped  upon  the  paddle-box,  and  put  the  trumpet  to 
his  mouth  and  called  out:  "The  'Atlantic'  is  safe;  she  has 
put  into  Cork  for  repairs  !  " 

How  the  people  shouted  !  Ah,  it  was  a  shout  from  a  hun- 
dred thousand  throats.  Men  shook  hands  who  never  saw 
each  other  before  ;  tears  were  dashed  from  cheeks  that  were 
unused  to  such  moisture ;  bands  of  music  paraded  through 
the  streets  ;  at  night,  transparencies  were  exhibited  in  front  of 
the  hotels,  "  The  '  Atlantic  '  is  safe."  The  telegraphic  wires 
worked  all  night,  —  thrill,  thrill,  thrill,  "The  'Atlantic'  is 
safe."  Thousands  upon  thousands  rejoiced,  but  not  one  in 
a  hundred  thousand  had  an  acquaintance  on  board  that  ves- 
sel. It  was  the  great  heart  of  the  people  throbbing  with 
sympathy  for  those  who  were  in  suffering  and  suspense. 
It  is  this  sympathy  that  we  appeal  to,  and  we  shall  not 
appeal  in  vain. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 


POWER   OF   EXAMPLE  —  LIFE   IN   A    GREAT   CITY  —  STORY  OF 
DRUNKEN  JAKE  —  SCENES    IN  MY  EARLIER   DAYS. 

"Don't  Believe  It "  — Incredulous  People  —  Street  Children —Little  Crea- 
tures in  Tatters  and  Filth  —  The  Mouth  of  Hell  — "I've  got  a  Terrible 
Bunch  on  My  Side  "  —  Fool's  Pence  —  A  Good  Story  —  "  Dip  Your  Scone 
in  Your  Own  Gravy  "  —  A  Tough  Audience  —  A  Leaf  from  My  Experience 
in  Connecticut  —  A  Marvellously  Interesting  Story  —  Thrilling  Scenes  — 
Bribing  Drunken  Jake  to  Disturb  the  Meeting  —  An  Unexpected  Result  — 
A  Happy  Day  —  Personal  Experience  in  Vermont  —  Another  Tough 
Audience  —  Willing  Hands  and  Hearts  —  My  Proposition  to  Twenty-seven 
Ladies  —  "  Hark  !  There  Is  the  Bell ! "  —  Remarkable  Scenes  —  Interest- 
ing Reminiscences  —  My  Experience  in  Cincinnati  —  P.  T.  Barnum  and 
Jenny  Lind  —  Mr.  Barnum  Offers  Five  Thousand  Dollars  for  the  Use  of  a 
Church  — Why  His  Offer  Was  Declined  —  "  Look  !  The  Prairie  Is  on 
Fire  !  "  —Faith  in  God. 


E  often  find  people  indisposed 
to  believe  statements  made 
with  regard  to  the  evils  of 
drunkenness.  We  tell  them  of 
the  loss  of  life.  "Don't  be- 
lieve it."  We  tell  them  of 
the  pauperism.  "  Don't  believe 
it."  We  tell  them  of  the  lunacy. 
"  Don't  believe  it."  Lord  Robert  Gros- 
venor,  presiding  at  one  of  my  meetings 
in  Exeter  Hall,  London,  said,  "As  a 
visitor  of  one  of  our  lunatic  asylums,  I  unhesitatingly 
declare  that  two  thirds  of  the  lunacy  in  Great  Britain  is 
produced,  directly  or  indirectly,  by  drunkenness."  The 
managers  of  the  idiot  asylums  have  said,  "  When  we  come 
to  give  our  report,  people  will  be  astonished  that  so  much 
496 


ONE  OF  DEATH'S  HARVEST  FIELDS.  497 

idiocy  is  produced  by  drink."  The  children  of  drunken 
parents  are  idiotic  by  scores,  and  the  public  have  to  sustain 
them.  Yet  people  "  don't  believe  it."  When  we  tell  them 
of  crime, —  "  Don't  believe  it ; "  yet  the  last  words  of  Justice 
Talfourd  were  that  the  great  cause  of  crime  in  Great  Britain 
is  drink,  and  our  judges  tell  us  the  same  is  true  of  our  own 
country. 

A  gentleman  said  to  me  not  long  ago  in  England,  "  A  great 
fault  I  find  with  you  temperance  men  is  this;  you  make 
statements  that  facts  do  not  bear  out."  A  person  once  said 
to  me,  "  I  heard  a  gentleman  say  in  the  Whittingtoii  Club 
Room  that  forty  or  fifty  thousand  people  died  every  year 
from  drunkenness;  why,  it  is  the  most  absurd  thing  in  the 
world."  "Well,"  said  I,  "I  do  not  know  about  that;"  and 
I  happened  to  have  in  my  possession  a  small  tract  that  was 
put  into  my  hand  at  Norwich,  containing  extracts  from 
speeches  of  judges  and  coroners  respecting  this  evil  of 
drunkenness.  "  Now,  sir,"  I  said,  "  how  many  people  do 
you  suppose  die  of  drunkenness  in  the  city  of  London  every 
year  ? "  "  Oh,"  said  he,  "  London  is  a  large  city,  two  and 
a  half  millions  of  inhabitants  [this  was  in  1854]  ;  I  suppose 
about  a  hundred  or  two  die  of  drunkenness."  I  then  read  a 
statement  from  the  coroner  of  Middlesex  to  the  effect  that 
from  10,000  to  12,000  die  in  London  every  year  from  exces- 
sive drinking,  and  that  the  coroner  held  inquests  on  from 
1,200  to  1,500  bodies  of  men  and  women  every  year,  who 
died  from  drink.  "Well,"  said  he,  "I  could  not  have 
believed  it."  Then  let  men  investigate. 

We  occasionally  hear  something  in  the  shape  of  an  argu- 
ment. For  instance,  a  gentleman  wrote  me  a  very  long 
letter  dated  from  one  of  the  club-houses,  in  which  he  says 
that  drunkenness  is  a  fearful  evil,  and  that  he  never  saw  it 
in  such  a  light  as  he  has  seen  it  lately;  but  he  says  instead  of 


498 


TOTAL  DEPEAVITY. 


total  abstinence  being  the  remedy  you  must  educate  the 
people ;  make  a  man  respect  himself,  and  then  he  will  govern 
himself.  Well,  go  and  see  one  of  those  poor  little  wretches 
in  the  street  who  begs  you  to  give  him  a  penny.  I  have 
sometimes  felt  as  if  it  was  almost  impossible  to  refuse  them; 
yet  we  are  apt  to  say,  "What 
a  parcel  of  miserable  little 
wretches,  how  the  city  is  infested 
with  them." 
Now  who  are 
they?  They 
are  children,  al- 
though we  of- 
ten find  among 
them  an  old 
head  on  young 
shoulders.  And 
what  a  history 
is  theirs,  a  his- 
tory fearful  in 
all  its  pages, 
a  history  such 
as  you  dream 
nothing  of. 
Little  girls  of 
ten,  eleven, 
twelve,  are 
there;  one  of 

them  looked  up  in  my  face  in  the  Salt  Market,  Glasgow,  and 
pleaded  "  Gie  me  a  dram."  "How  old  are  you?"  "No  so 
auld  's  my  mither."  "  But  what  do  you  want  ?"  "  Gie  me  a 
dram,  come  down  the  close,  and  I  '11  tell  ye." 

You  speak  of  them  as  miserable  little  children.     Go  home 


GIE  ME  A  DRAM.' 


FROM  THE  CHURCH  TO  THE  DRAM-SHOP.  499 

with  them,  and  you  will  find  that  they  are  sent  out  to  beg  in 
the  streets,  to  steal  and  to  lie,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  to  sup- 
port the  miserable  and  debauched  husband  and  wife,  their 
father  and  mother.  Go  into  some  of  the  lowest  streets,  as 
I  have  been,  and  ask  that  practised  thief  who  is  lounging 
at  the  corner  of  the  gin-shop,  who  these  children  belong  to 
that  are  playing  near  him. 

These  children  are  educated;  yes,  they  are.  Stand  with 
me  at  the  corner  of  the  street  in  a  low  vicinity  and  look 
around  you.  These  outcasts  are  being  educated ;  wretched 
little  creatures  in  tatters  and  filth,  old  before  their  time,  and 
skilled  in  lies  and  deceit,  trained  to  pilfer,  educated  in  the 
filthiest  vices. 

There  was  sometimes  to  be  seen  in  the  front  of  a  whiskey- 
shop  in  the  Grassmarket,  Edinburgh,  an  old  gray-haired  man 
with  a  noble  brow,  fiddling  for  half-pence,  his  wife  every  now 
and  then  passing  round  a  tin  cup  to  collect  the  coppers  from 
the  by-standers..  That  old  gray-haired  man,  some  years  ago, 
was  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  and  he  and  his  wife  were  ac- 
customed to  sit  at  the  tables  of  the  landed  proprietors  and 
gentry  of  the  district  where  he  was  settled.  What  a  power 
must  that  be  which  could  drag  a  man  from  such  a  position 
to  the  deep  damnation  of  habitual  drunkenness ! 

Is  not  the  following  extract  from  "  Alton  Locke,"  quoted 
by  Rev.  Alexander  Wallace,  a  true  picture  ?  "A  young  man 
in  London  was  determined  to  become  an  author  and  to  write 
poetry.  An  old  Aberdonian  whom  he  consulted,  and  to 
whom  he  explained  his  intentions,  led  him  out  one  chilly, 
foggy  Saturday  night,  among  the  interminable  lanes  and  a 
wilderness  of  houses,  to  a  miserable  alley,  the  appearance  of 
which  was  perfectly  sickening  and  disgusting.  Stopping  all 
at  once  before  the  entrance,  in  his  own  peculiarly  graphic 
style,  he  said  to  his  youthful  companion,  who  wished  to  be 


500  THE  MODERN  MOLOCH. 

an  author  and  to  write  poetry,  c  Look  !  There 's  not  a  soul 
down  that  yard  but  that 's  either  beggar,  drunkard,  thief,  or 
worse.  Write  about  that !  Say  how  ye  saw  the  mouth  of 
hell  and  the  twa  pillars  thereof,  a  pawn-broker's  shop  on  one 
side  and  a  gin-palace  on  the  other,  twa  monstrous  devils  eating 
up  men,  women,  and  children,  body  and  soul.  Look  at  the 
jaws  of  the  monsters,  how  they  open  and  swallow  in  another 
victim,  and  another.  Write  about  that.  These  folding  doors 
of  the  gin-shop,  are  they  not  a  more  damnable,  a  more  de- 
vouring idol  than  any  red-hot  statue  of  Moloch,  or  wicker 
Gog  Magog  wherein  the  old  Britons  burnt  their  prisoners  ? 
Look  at  the  woman  pouring  the  gin  down  her  baby's  throat. 
Look  at  the  prodigal  boy  going  out  of  the  pawn-shop,  where 
he  has  been  pledging  the  handkerchief  he  stole  this  morning, 
into  the  gin-shop.  Look  at  that  girl  pawning  the  last  skirt  in 
her  possession  for  strong  drink.  Write  about  that !  and  if 
ye  write,  write,  like  Jeremiah  of  old,  of  lamentation  and 
mourning  and  woe  for  the  sins  of  the  people.' " 

We  talk  and  write  about  the  hardships  of  working-men. 
I  believe  the  working-men  spend  more  money  for  beer  and 
spirit  than  they  are  aware  of,  unless  they  count  the  cost  month 
by  month  and  week  by  week.  You  have  heard  the  story,  prob- 
ably, of  a  man  who  signed  the  pledge  for  a  year,  and,  at  the  ex- 
piration of  the  time,  went  into  a  dram-shop.  The  bar-keeper 
supposed  he  had  come  for  his  drink,  and  he  began  to  feel  by 
anticipation  the  poor  man's  coppers  rattling  in  his  pocket. 

"  What  will  you  have  to  drink?"  he  asked. 

"  Nothing  at  all ;  I  don't  want  anything." 

"  Well,  but  your  year  is  up." 

"  I  know  that,  but  I  've  got  a  terrible  bunch  on  my  side." 

"  Ah,  I  thought  you  would  have  something ;  knocking  off 
drink  so  quick  won't  do ;  you  had  better  have  a  little  drop  to 
begin  with,  —  it  will  probably  take  that  bunch  away ;  if 


WHO  PAID  FOR  THE  PIANO  ? 


501 


you  don't,  you'll  probably  have  another  just  like  it  growing 
on  the  other  side." 

"  O,  you  think  so,  do  you  ?  Well,  here  is  the  bunch " 
[pulling  out  a  bag  containing  $50] ;  "  you  say  if  I  drink 
something  it  will  take  it  away,  and  if  I  don't  I  shall  have 
another  come  just  like  it  ?  Yah  ! " 

Look,  then,  at  the  cost  of  the  thing.     There  is  many  a  man 

hardly  able  to  jingle  two  coppers 
together  after  Wednesday  night 
who  might  not,  at  the  close  of  the 
year,  have  a  bunch  in  his  pocket 
or  by  his  side,  that  would  give  to 
his  family  a  great  many  comforts 
and  privileges  they  are  now  de- 
prived of.  I  remember  reading  a 
tract  describing  a  carpenter  com- 
ing home  from  his 
work  with  his  tools 
on  his  shoulder,  and, 
as  usual,  he  went 
into  a  public-house 
to  drink.  He  had 
the  three  pennies  in 
his  hand  all  ready, 
but  the  landlady 
was  talking  to  her  neighbor,  and  was  not  ready  to  serve  him. 
The  door  was  open,  and  he  heard  a  piano.  The  landlady's 
neighbor  said : 

"  You  have  a  piano  ?  " 

"Yes,"   replied   the  landlady,  "it's  a  new  one,  it  cost 
seventy  guineas ;  Aramantha  Amelia  is  learning  to  play  it, 
and  we  have  one  of  the  first  masters  in  the  city  to  teach  her." 
"  And  you  have  new  furniture  ?  " 


I'VE   GOT   A  TERRIBLE    BUNCH  ON    MY   SIDE 


502 


DIP  YOUR  SCOXE  IN  YOUR  OWN  GRAVY.' 


"  Yes,  we  have  new  furniture  and  our  apartments   are 
splendidly  furnished." 

"  How  did  you  get  all  these  things  ?  " 
"  I  '11  tell  you;  it 's  the  fools'  pence  that  got  them." 
The  carpenter  thought  for  a  moment.     "  Fools'  pence,"  he 
said,  as  he  looked  at  the  money  in  his  hand.     "  There  are 
three  of  them,"  and  he  put  the  money 
in  his  pocket ;  "  you  '11  get  no  more  of   | 
mine."     Now,  then,  let  the  working- 
man  give  up  his  beer  and  spirits, 
and  he  will  find  at  the  end  of  the 
year  an  accumulation  of  property 
that  will  astonish  him. 
Dr.  Brown,  of  Dal- 
keith,  tells  a  good  story 
of  a  poor  drunkard  who 
entered  a  public-house 
with    a    "  scone  "  —  I 
think  that 's  what  they 
call  it  —  a  "  scone,"  a 
soft  biscuit,  in  his  jacket 
pocket ;  he  had  nothing 
else   in   it,  his  money 
had  all  been  left  at  the 
bar.     He  sat  down  on 
a  bench  by  the  kitchen  fire,  over  which  the  landlady  was  fry- 
ing bacon.    When  she  turned  her  back,  he  dipped  his  "scorie  " 
into  the  gravy  and  munched  it,  and  dipped  and  ate  again  and 
again.    Finally  the  landlady  caught  him,  called  him  a  drunken 
lout,  and  thrust  him  to  the  door  with  the  remark,  "  Dip  your 
scone  in  your  own  gravy."     He  went  away  and  thought  of 
the  earnings  he  had  spent  there  and  the  misery  he  had  brought 
upon  himself,  and,  three  months  after,  he  passed  the  door,  neat 


A   DINNER   ON    THE    SLY. 


A  LEAF  FROM  MY  CONNECTICUT  EXPERIENCE.        503 

and  smart.  "  Oh,  how  are  you?"  cried  the  landlady,  "  come 
in,  come  in,  and  take  a  dram."  "  Ah,  na,  I  'm  dipping  my 
scone  in  my  ain  gravy,  noo." 

These  men  are  worth  saving,  and  we  plead  with  you  as 
individuals  to  help  us.  I  have  seen  the  exertion  and  in- 
fluence of  one  man  revolutionize  a  whole  town.  I  well 
remember  speaking  in  a  certain  town  in  Connecticut — one  of 
the  hardest  places  I  ever  spoke  in  —  where  the  people  sat  and 
looked,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  I  wonder  what  he  is  going  to  say 
next."  One  might  as  well  put  one's  head  into  a  bag  of 
feathers  and  try  to  make  an  impression  upon  them  as  to 
move  that  audience.  A  meeting  was  to  be  held  at  four 
o'clock,  and  we  really  did  not  know  what  to  do  ;  so  I  said  to 
the  minister,  "  I  am  weary  and  disheartened,  I  shall  do  you 
no  good  if  I  stay ;  I  '11  go  home,  and  you  must  conduct  the 
meeting."  He  said,  "  What  shall  I  do  ?  There  's  my  church, 
and  there  's  one  grog-shop,  and  there  's  another,  one  on  each 
side  of  it,  and  one  is  kept  by  a  member  of  my  church,  and 
it  is  the  worst  place  of  the  two."  I  do  not  say  in  my  ex- 
perience I  have  found  that  when  a  professing  Christian  sells 
liquor,  he  keeps  the  worst  place,  but  I  have  found  him  the 
hardest  man  to  deal  with ;  for  I  '11  defy  any  man  to  read  in  the 
Bible,  "  Woe  unto  him  that  giveth  his  neighbor  drink,  that 
putteth  thy  bottle  to  him  and  maketh  him  drunken,  for  the 
cup  of  the  Lord's  right  hand  shall  be  turned  unto  thee,  and 
shameful  spewing  shall  be  on  thy  glory,  for  the  violence  of 
Lebanon  shall  cover  thee,  because  of  men's  blood,"  etc. —  I 
say,  I  '11  defy  any  man  to  read  that  and  then  ask  God  to  bless 
him  in  his  business,  when  that  business  is  to  put  the  bottle  to 
his  neighbor's  lips. 

"  But,"  said  the  minister,  "  you  go  and  talk  to  these  liquor- 
sellers,  and  I  '11  pray  over  it."  So  he  went  home  and  I  went 
to  the  dram-shops.  The  first  man  I  went  to  see  said,  "  I  sup< 


504 


A  TOUGH  LOT. 


pose  you  have  come  to  ask  me  to  give  up  business ;  I  shall 
be  very  glad  to  do  so ;  I  have  been  once  or  twice  to  hear  you, 
and  I  am  pretty  well  convinced  that  it  ?s  a  miserable,  mean 
business ;  I  '11  go  and  hear  you  this  afternoon,  and  if  I  am 
entirely  convinced,  I  will  give  it  up  and  keep  a  temperance 
house;  and  if  that  don't  keep  me,  I  have  two  hands  that 
will."  I  said  to  him,  "You're  a  gentleman."  The  next  man 
I  visited  looked  like  a  turtle  poking  out  his  head  every  now 
and  then  and  bob- 
bing it  in  again. 
Said  he,  "  I  keep 
a  decent  house,  all 
the  drunkards  go 
to  the  other  place 
to  get  drunk; 
it 's  no  use  coming 
to  me."  So  I 
went  away.  The 
gentleman  with 
whom  I  stayed 
was  an  excellent 
man,  and  prayed 
for  the  success  of 
the  enterprise  at 
family  worship.  I  am  always  glad  to  find  men  praying  for  us, 
because  I  do  not  think  any  man  will  pray  for  the  success  of 
anything  he  does  not  believe  to  be  right.  But  when  we  sat 
down  to  supper  there  was  a  mug  of  cider  for  each  individual. 
I  did  not  like  the  look  of  it,  and  I  said,  "Would  you  willingly 
put  temptation  in  the  way  of  a  brother?  I  never  drink  cider, 
but  if  that  was  a  glass  of  brandy  and  water  it  would  be  a 
a  temptation  to  me."  (I  had  not  signed  the  pledge  at  that 
time  more  than  a  couple  of  years.) 


V  \  x     \  *    X  \ 

AN    INEFFECTUAL,   APPEAL. 


SUCCESS  AT  LAST.  507 

I  then  said  to  him,  "  You  can  exert  great  influence  in  this 

town."  Said  he,  "If  I  could  only  get  Mr. ,"  (a  poor, 

broken-down  lawyer,  who  had  been  placed  in  the  Post  Office 
and  turned  away  through  drink,  because  he  could  not  attend 
to  the  business  properly)  —  "if  I  could  only  get  him  to  sign 
the  pledge,  I  'd  turn  the  best  hogshead  of  cider  I  've  got  into 
vinegar,  and  sign  the  pledge  myself."  "  You  profess  to  be  a 
Christian  man  and  you  would  not  agree  to  do  that  unless  you 
believed  it  to  be  right.  We  have  settled  the  point,  then,  that 
it  is  right  to  sign  the  pledge.  You  say  you  would  do  so  and 
so  if  good  would  result.  Good  will  be  the  result ;  no  man 
ever  denied  himself  for  the  sake  of  another,  but  good  was 
the  result."  Said  he,  "  I  '11  think  of  it."  At  the  meeting, 
the  tall  gray-haired  man  stood  up  and  signed  the  pledge ; 
the  next  was  the  ex-postmaster ;  then  the  two  liquor-sellers 
came  up,  and  almost  bumped  their  heads  over  the  table  as 
they  signed  the  pledge.  Eighty-two  came  forward,  and  if 
they  did  not  make  a  flourish  with  the  pen,  some  of  them 
did  with  the  tongue.  They  put  their  names  down  as  if 
they  meant  it.  All  agreed  that  we  must  have  another 
meeting  at  eight  o'clock.  I  went  for  some  refreshments. 
Coming  up  the  hill  on  my  return  to  the  hall,  a  man  in  the 
wagon  in  front  of  us  stopped,  stood  up,  cried  out,  "  Halt, 
halt !  Look  at  the  grog-shops  closed  at  sun-down.  Thirty- 
five  years  I  've  lived  in  this  town  and  I  never  saw  a  sight 
like  that.  I've  seen  drunkards  go  in  at  one  door  as  a 
funeral  started  from  the  other.  Three  cheers  for  cold  water." 
We  gave  the  cheers,  and  the  ex-dramsellers  came  out  and 
helped  us.  At  the  meeting,  all  went  on  well. 

There  was  a  class  of  young  men  in  the  town  who  looked 

with  a  great  deal  of  contempt  on  every  moral  movement. 

You  will  find  such  young  men  everywhere.     They  have  no 

contempt  for  a  horse-race  or  prize-fight,  for  the  new  fashion 

81 


508 


MAKING  A   CAT'S  PAW  OF  DRUNKEN  JAKE. 


of  a  coat,  or  hat,  or  pair  of  boots,  and  there  is  a  large  amount 
of  intellectual  power  often,  wasted  by  them  in  the  appreciation 
and  description  of  this  sort  of  thing.  Some  of  them  give 
their  whole  mind,  or  what  they  call  their  mind,  to  the  ar- 
rangement of  a  necktie  or  the  cultivation  of  their  whiskers. 
However,  the  young  gentlemen  in  this  town  who  thought  a 


DRUNKEN    JAKE. 

moral  movement  so  much  beneath  them  did  not  hesitate  to  in- 
duce a  poor  drunkard  to  come  and  disturb  the  meeting.  After 
I  had  delivered  my  speech,  which  was  to  the  intemperate, 
the  poor  drunkard  stood  up,  and  I  have  seldom  heard  such  a 
speech  as  he  made.  The  young  men  were  looking  on,  expect- 
ing to  see  the  sport,  and  were  rubbing  their  hands  with  great 
glee.  He  said :  "  Look  here,  I  've  got  a  bottle  of  liquor  in 
my  pocket  and  they  have  given  me  half  a  dollar,  that  is,  they 


BURNING  THE  MONKEYS'   FINGERS.  5Q9 

said  they  would  —  them  's  the  fellows  up  there  "  [pointing  to 
them]  ;  "  they  gave  me  a  bottle  of  liquor  and  said  they  would 
give  rne  half  a  dollar  if  I  would  come  to  this  meeting,  and 
every  now  and  then  pull  out  the  cork,  and  say,  4  Mr.  Gough, 
here 's  your  very  good  health.'  Young  men,  you  may  keep 
your  money  ;  I  shan't  do  it."  He  went  out,  and  we  heard  a 
bottle  smash  on  the  steps.  Then  he  came  in  and  said  to  the 
audience,  "  I  have  been  called  Drunken  Jake  long  enough,  I 
have  had  my  hat  knocked  over  rny  eyes  often  enough ;  Mr. 
Gough  has  told  me  I  am  a  man,  and  I  believe  I  am;  I  have 
not  acted  like  one,  but  I  '11  sign  the  pledge,  see  if  I  don't." 
His  hand  shook  and  he  could  not  do  it.  "  I  will,  see  if  I 
don't."  At  last  he  succeeded  in  scrawling  his  name;  it 
looked  just  as  if  he  had  taken  a  fly  and  dipped  it  in  ink 
and  set  it  to  run  across  the  paper,  but  it  was  his  name,  and 
it  is  there  to  this  day. 

I  went  to  that  town  some  time  afterwards  to  attend  a 
temperance  celebration ;  the  governor  of  the  State  made 
a  speech  on  the  occasion,  and  the  first  words  he  uttered  were 
these :  —  "  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  was  invited  to  attend  a 
military  review  to  be  held  at  Norwich  to-day ;  I  said  I  would 
be  there  if  nothing  special  should  intervene,  but  a  temperance 
celebration  in  my  native  town  is  something  so  special  that  I 
am  with  you  to-day."  The  ex-postmaster  was  in  the  chair. 
Children  and  wives  of  reformed  drunkards  were  there.  The 
children  sung,  "  Away,  away  the  bowl,"  and  unfurled  a  ban- 
ner on  which  was  inscribed,  "  All  is  right  now  father  is 
sober."  It  was  a  happy  day.  One  woman  shook  hands  with 
me  and  said,  "  Mr.  Gough,  when  you  were  here  last,  I  felt 
that  if  my  husband  would  only  keep  sober  and  take  care  of 
the  children,  I  should  be  perfectly  willing  to  die,  but  I  never 
wanted  to  live  so  much  as  I  do  now."  The  husband  wished 
me  to  go  home  with  him.  I  went.  "  There,"  said  he,  "  is  my 


510  A  HARD   TOWN  IX  VERMONT. 

wife.  When  you  were  here  last  she  was  with  her  friends. 
There  's  a  girl  "  [showing  me  his  daughter]  "who  was  out  at 
service.  There  are  two  children  who  were  in  the  almshouse, 
and  I  was  a  miserable  hanger-on  at  the  saloons.  My  children 
are  now  at  home ;  I  have  too  much  pride,  with  cold  water, 
to  let  the  town  take  care  of  them."  I  believe  the  influence 
of  that  one  man,  now  in  heaven,  will  be  felt  to  all  eternity. 

I  remember  speaking  two  or  three  evenings  in  a  town  in 
Vermont,  to  a  very  hard  audience.  There  was  no  making 
any  impression  upon  them.  If  anything  was  said  calculated 
to  make  them  smile,  and  one  person  began  to  titter,  every- 
body looked  at  him,  and  he  held  down  his  head  as  if  he 
were  ashamed.  It  was  a  strange  audience.  I  said  to  them, 
on  the  second  night :  "  Gentlemen,  I  know  by  your  looks 
that  you  will  do  nothing,  I  know  you  do  not  intend  to 
do  anything ;  you  have  come  here  with  sneers  on  your  faces, 
arid  armed  against  me ;  it  would  take  three  nights  to  address 
you,  to  get  through  that  armor  and  reach  your  hearts.  There 
are  some  ladies  here,  however,  who  can  do  something  if  they 
will,  and  if  they  say  they  will,  I  know  they  will.  It  is  to 
them  that  I  appeal."  I  was  entertained  at  a  house  in  the 
town,  and  the  next  day  twenty-seven  ladies  came  to  see  me. 
I  assure  you  I  was  somewhat  startled,  for  I  had  not  been 
used  to  meeting  such  a  committee,  and  although  I  have  been 
before  the  public  for  the  last  forty  years  I  still  have  a  feeling 
of  diffidence  that  I  shall  never  overcome.  So  when  these 
twenty-seven  ladies  came  in,  if  they  had  said  nothing  to  me  I 
think  they  might  have  been  there  till  now  arid  I  should  have 
said  nothing  to  them.  "  Well,  Mr.  Gough,"  they  said,  "  you 
told  us  last  night  to  do  something ;  if  you  will  tell  us  what  we 
can  do,  we  are  willing  to  do  it."  "  Well,"  I  said,  "it's  rather 
a  strange  position  to  place  me  in  to  tell  you  what  you  can  do. 
Have  you  a  society  of  children  here,  a  cold-water  army?" 


ENLISTING  THE   LADIES. 


511 


"  No,  we  have  not."  "  Then,"  said  I,  "  there  are  enough  of 
you  to  canvass  this  whole  town  and  get  every  child,  with  its 
parent's  consent  —  not  without  —  to  adopt  the  principle  of 
total  abstinence.  Get  every  child  to  sign  the  pledge ;  go  to 


A   SUDDEN    INVASION. 


the  ministers'  houses,  to  drunkards'  houses,  to  abstainers' 
houses,  go  everywhere.  Get  every  child  you  can  to  sign  the 
pledge.  I  shall  leave  town  after  to-night's  meeting,  but  will 
return  on  Saturday.  If  you  get  the  children,  and  it  is  fine 
weather,  we  can  go  into  the  grove  and  sing  and  talk  with  the 
children,  and  I  believe  good  will  be  done."  They  said  they 


512  A  CLEVER  DODGE. 

would  do  so  and  I  felt  satisfied  that  the  thing  would  be  a 
success. 

That  night  we  went  to  the  place  of  meeting,  a  large  room 
up  two  flights  of  stairs,  —  for  the  place  of  worship,  usually 
granted  to  us  in  every  village  in  those  days,  had,  in  this 
instance,  been  denied  us.  Some  one,  however,  said,  "Hark, 
there  is  the  bell  ringing,"  and  sure  enough  it  was.  The  bell 
of  the  church  was  ringing,  and  such  a  ringing  I  never  before 
heard.  It  appeared  that  the  husband  of  one  of  the  ladies 
had  one  of  the  keys  of  the  church,  and  she  obtained  it  and 
opened  the  door,  and  rang  the  bell  as  well  as  she  could,  think- 
ing that  when  we  were  once  inside  they  would  not  turn  us 
out.  And  they  did  riot.  The  church  was  not  lighted,  but 
the  ladies  procured  some  candles,  so  that  we  had  light  enough 
to  talk  by.  Now,  T  do  not  suppose  this  could  happen  in  every 
town.  This  happened  in  a  country  village,  where  it  could 
be  done  with  perfect  propriety,  while  in  the  city  it  might  be 
an  absurdity.  But  I  am  only  showing  what  the  ladies  can 
do  if  they  please.  The  next  Saturday  a  band  of  music  was 
heard  in  the  streets ;  not  a  very  good  band,  it  is  true  ;  but 
they  mustered  as  many  instruments  as  they  could  to  make  a 
noise,  and  marched  up  the  streets  with  a  large  banner,  on 
which  was  inscribed :  — 

"THE  LADIES  OF  B . 

TEETOTAL,   OR  NO  HUSBAND. 
RELIGION     OUR     SAFEGUARD, 

TEMPERANCE    OUR    SHIELD." 

And  they  marched  up  with  three  hundred  and  six  chil- 
dren into  the  grove.  Several  ministers  were  there-,  and 
spoke  in  behalf  of  the  enterprise. 

The  procession  then  came  down  the  streets  again,  and  hap- 
pened to  pass  by  some  young  men  who  were  in  front  of  one 


SOME  ASTONISHED  YOUNG  MEN.  513 

of  the  taverns,  young  men  of  good  families,  who  had 
nothing  to  do  but  to  smoke  cigars  and  puff  the  smoke  in 
spiral  wreaths  around  their  hats.  One  of  them  said:  "Listen ! 
There  is  some  music  in  the  street."  uYes,"  said  another, 
"they  have  been  mustering  a  parcel  of  women  and  children, 
and  call  it  a  teetotal  army;"  and  they  pooh-poohed  and 
sneered,  as  a  great  many  persons  do  who  know  but  little  about 
our  movement.  At  last  one  of  them  said :  "  Holloa !  What 

is  that?     4  The   ladies  of  B ,  teetotal,   or  no  husband.' 

Well,  that 's  a  good  'un !  "  and  the  young  men  laughed  and 
chuckled,  and  were  very  merry  over  it,  and  thought  it  a  very 


IN    FRONT   OF   THE   TAVERN. 


absurd  thing.  But  by  and  by  one  of  the  young  gentlemen 
heard  that  there  was  a  certain  Miss  So-and-so  in  the  proces- 
sion. He  looked,  and,  sure  enough,  there  she  was.  At  once 
he  began  to  arrange  his  dress  ;  put  his  cigar  behind  him, 
buttoned  up  his  coat,  and  looked  very  demure.  Now,  that 
town  was  one  of  the  most  drunken  towns  in  the  State  ;  the 
young  men  were  going  to  destruction  by  scores  ;  they  were 
growing  in  wickedness  and  dissipation  ;  but  before  the  sun 
went  down  that  night  fifty-nine  young  men  had  signed  the 
pledge.  That  was  in  1844,  and  the  results  are  felt  to  this  day. 
Some  have  said  :  All  this  tends  to  scepticism  and  ignor- 
ing the  power  of  God's  grace,  and  impairs  the  influence  of  the 
church.  Ours  is  not  a  sectarian  movement.  It  never  has 
been  made  so  ;  it  is  a  Christian  enterprise.  I  remember 


514  MY  EXPERIENCE  IN   CINCINNATI. 

when  we  were  about  to  hold  a  series  of  twenty-eight  meetings 
in  Cincinnati.  Mr.  Barnum  was  there  at  that  time  with  Jenny 
Lind.  She  had  sung  in  some  of  the  places  of  worship,  and 
it  was  not  thought  improper.  She  was  a  lady,  and  a  Chris- 
tian. They  paid  pretty  high  prices  for  the  use  of  churches, 
and  these  were  generally  granted,  —  I  do  not  say  for  that 
reason.  The  Wesley  chapel  was  the  largest  building  in  the 
city  (I  have  seen  more  than  five  thousand  children  in  it  at 
one  time),  and  Mr.  Barnum  proposed  to  give  five  thousand 
dollars  for  it  for  five  nights.  A  meeting  of  the  trustees  was 
held,  and  some  of  them  said :  "  We  are  in  debt,  and  should 
really  like  the  money,  and  Miss  Lind  has  sung  in  churches 
at  other  places."  One  of  the  trustees  said  :  "Do  you  know 
that  the  temperance  friends  are  about  to  apply  for  it  to  hold 
twelve  meetings,  and  they  are  to  be  here  at  the  same  time 
that  Mr.  Barnum  wishes  to  have  the  place  for  Jenny  Lind  ?  " 
"Then  that  settles  the  matter  at  once,"  said  the  trustees, 
"  Mr.  Barnum  cannot  have  it ;  we  will  open  the  place  for  the 
temperance  friends,  and  sweep  and  light  and  garnish  it,  and 
let  them  have  it  free."  And  we  did  have  it  free,  and  the 
trustees  gave  up  the  five  thousand  dollars  for  the  concerts. 
Was  any  injury  done  to  the  cause  of  religion  there?  No; 
we  held  those  twenty-eight  meetings  in  the  city,  twelve  of 
them  at  Wesley  chapel.  One  was  a  prayer  meeting,  and  I 
never  was  at  such  a  prayer  meeting  before  or  since.  There 
were  more  than  a  thousand  persons  present.  An  Episcopal 
clergyman  sat  in  the  pulpit  as  president,  and  I  remember  Dr. 
Beecher,  Mrs.  Stowe's  father,  asked  me  to  say  a  few  words. 
I  spoke  for  just  ten  minutes,  and  when  I  went  down  from 
the  pulpit  he  grasped  my  hand.  I  saw  tears  running  down 
his  cheeks  as  he  said:  "  God  Almighty  bless  you."  There 
were  ministers  of  all  denominations  there.  There  was  a 
large  meeting  of  Methodist  ministers  elsewhere,  and  only 


FAITH  AND  WORK.  515 

two  or  three  of  them  could  come,  but  they  sent  letters  of 
sympathy  with  the  movement.  Did  that,  think  you,  injure 
the  cause  of  religion  ? 

There  was  once  a  great  State  temperance  convention  held 
in  Worcester,  Massachusetts,  and  it  happened  to  be  appointed 
on  two  days  when  the  convention  of  Congregational  minis- 
ters of  New  England  met  at  Lowell.  In  the  midst  of  their 
deliberations  it  was  announced  that  a  deputation  from  the 
Congregational  convention  had  come  to  offer  sympathy  with 
them  in  their  work.  The  whole  convention  rose  to  receive 
them.  The  venerable  Dr.  Hitchcock,  President  of  Amherst 
College,  was  spokesman.  Two  doctors  of  divinity  came 
with  him,  carrying  with  them  the  full  sympathy  and  hearty 
prayers  of  the  convention  held  a  hundred  miles  distant. 
Did  that  injure  the  cause  of  religion?  Let  the  religious 
men  in  this  country  identify  themselves  with  this  movement, 
and  they  would  soon  sift  out  every  particle  of  infidelity 
from  it. 

I  believe  this  enterprise  is  to  be  successful,  because  it  is 
God's  work  and  not  man's.  He  uses  human  instruments  as 
he  sees  fit.  The  temperance  cause  must  be  borne  upon  the 
shoulders  of  God's  people  and  God's  ministers,  as  was  the 
ark  of  old,  or  it  never  will  go  forward. 

Think  what  a  glorious  reformer  Nehemiah  was.  You 
remember  when  he  heard  of  the  children  of  Israel  being  in 
distress,  he  desired  to  help  them,  and,  in  his  beautiful,  sub- 
lime, and  touching  autobiography,  he  does  not  tell  us,  "  So  I 
went  in  to  ask  the  king's  permission  ; "  no,  "  I  prayed  in  my 
heart,  and  said  unto  the  king ; "  and  that  is  the  way  he 
worked.  He  prayed  while  he  worked.  When  they  cam-e  out 
against  him,  he  did  not  say :  "  So  we  set  a  watch  and  kept 
them  off."  No,  but  he  said:  "We  made  our  prayer  unto 
God  and  set  a  watch."  There  it  was  again ;  working  and 


516  FIGHTING  A  PRAIRIE  FIRE. 

praying,  neglecting  neither  the  work  nor  the  prayer,  but 
working  and  praying,  with  weapons  of  war  in  one  hand  and 
implements  of  labor  in  the  other.  Let  us  work  and  pray, 
and  watch  in  faith  that  the  day  of  victory  may  speedily 
dawn. 

Faith  in  what  ?  All  our  instrumentalities  are  very  feeble 
in  themselves.  I  remember  reading  of  a  missionary  party 
who  were  crossing  a  prairie  to  reach  their  destination.  Often 
in  September,  before  the  State  was  fully  settled,  fearful  fires 
occurred  on  the  prairies,  and  it  was  almost  impossible  to 
escape.  When  a  party  discovered  a  fire,  they  saved  them- 
selves by  pulling  up  the  grass  in  a  circle,  and  setting  it  on 
fire  around  them,  and  that  carried  the  flames  away  and  they 
were  thus  saved.  One  of  the  party  in  question  cried  out, 
"  Look !  Look !  The  prairie  is  on  fire ! "  There  was  a  ruddy 
glare  in  the  sky,  and  the  flames  were  approaching  rapidly. 
The  cry  arose,  "  The  prairie  is  on  fire !  We  are  lost,  we 
are  lost.  The  flames  travel  twenty  miles  an  hour.  We  shall 
be  burned  and  nothing  will  be  left  of  us  but  blackened 
corpses  or  charred  bones."  The  wife  clung  to  her  husband, 
the  mother  to  her  child,  and  they  stood  in  mute  despair. 
An  old  trapper  said,  "We  must  fight  fire  with  fire.  Let 
every  man,  woman,  and  child  work.  Pull  up  the  grass  in  a 
circle ;  larger  yet,  larger  yet !  Work  for  your  lives  !  Already 
I  feel  the  first  flush  of  heat.  Now  bring  the  matches." 
There  were  but  two.  They  took  one  and  struck  it.  It 
failed.  They  had  but  one  left,  only  one  match,  a  feeble 
instrumentality.  They  felt  that  it  was  the  last  earthly  hope. 
The  missionary,  baring  his  brow  and  holding  that  feeble 
agent  in  his  fingers,  said,  "  God  help  us  for  His  own  name's 
sake.  Help  us.  If  it  be  thy  will,  help  us."  And  they  all 
said,  as  their  hearts  prompted,  "Amen."  They  kneeled, 
praying,  the  fire  within  half  an  hour  of  them.  They  prayed, 


THE  EFFICACY   OF  FAITH. 


517 


they  believed,  they  struck  the  match,  it  caught  fire,  the  grass 
was  ignited.  Away  it  went  from  them  in  a  circle,  and  the 
little  band  escaped.  Brethren,  we  are  fighting  fire  with  fire. 


, 


"LOOK!  LOOK!  THE  PRAIRIE  is  ON  FIRE!" 

Our  instruments  are  as  feeble  as  that  single  match.  When 
we  put  forth  our  agencies,  let  us  say,  "  God  help  us ; "  and 
by  and  by  we  shall  be  standing  in  the  circle  while  the  fire 
rages  harmlessly  around  us ;  we  and  those  who  may  be  saved 
by  our  instrumentality.  May  God  grant  it,  for  His  own 
name's  sake. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


THE  GREAT  CONFLICT  IN  ENGLAND  AND  SCOTLAND  —  THE 
DESTROYER'S  MARCH — PERSONAL  WORK  AND  EXPERIENCES. 

The  Temperance  Cause  in  England  —  Mr.  Spurgeon's  Opinion  —  Alarming 
Increase  of  Dram-shops  —  London  —  Different  Classes  of  Society  —  Grave 
Apprehensions  for  the  Future  — The  Tide  of  Evil  —  Drinking  Among 
Women  —  Fighting  the  Demon  of  Intemperance  —  My  Labors  in  Eng- 
land—The Hardest  Work  of  Thirty  Years  —  Powerful  Champions  — 
Hoxton  Hall  —  Its  Former  Vile  Reputation  —  Touching  Scenes  —  Imi- 
tating Jerry  McAuley's  Mission  —  Work  Among  the  Ragged  and 
Wretched  —  Rational  Enjoyment  for  the  Homeless  —  Edinburgh  —  A 
Total  Abstinence  Club-room  —  A  Drunken  Teetotaler  —  Seeking  Safety  — 
Testimony  of  Eminent  Physicians  —  A  Remarkable  Incident  —  Recollec- 
tions of  the  Past  —  A  Leaf  from  My  Own  Experience  —  An  Awful 
Struggle  —  Rev.  C.  H.  Spurgeon  —  How  I  Became  Acquainted  with 
Him  —  Mrs.  Spurgeon  —  A  Noble  Woman  —  Disobeying  the  Doctor  — 
Mr.  Spurgeon's  Substitute  for  Beer. 


OMPARING  the  temperance 
cause  in  Great  Britain  with 
what  it  was  twenty-five  years 
ago,  I  found  an  immense  in- 
crease of  drunkenness  among 
a  certain  class.  I  do  not  mean 
to  say  that  this  is  true  of  all 
the  working  classes,  but  a  certain 
portion  of  what  are  called  the  lower 
orders  of  society  in  England  are 
more  besotted  and  brutalized  by 
drunkenness  than  they  were  twenty-five  years  ago.  Mr. 
Spurgeon  said  to  me,  "  There  is  a  certain  class  of  working- 
men  in  this  country  that  is  becoming  stolid,  soaked,  and  bru- 
talized by  drunkenness."  And  this  fact  has  roused  the 
community  from  one  end  of  the  kingdom  to  the  other,  to  do 
5)8 


INCREASE  OF  DRINKING  AMONG  WOMEN.  519 

something  against  this  terrible  curse  of  Great  Britain.  But 
it  is  perfectly  frightful  to  witness  the  number  of  places 
where  drink  is  sold.  I  never  saw  anything  to  be  compared 
with  it  on  this  side  of  the  water.  There  is  one  thing,  how- 
ever, that  should  be  remembered,  and  that  is,  London  has  a 
population  of  four  millions  —  larger  than  all  New  England, 
and  the  area  of  England  itself  is  not  much  larger  than  the 
State  of  Maine;  so  that  what  exists  of  evil  is  seen,  as  it 
were,  at  a  glance.  Then  there  are  two  classes,  or  two  worlds; 
one  lives  out-doors,  and  the  other  in-doors.  All  the  degrada- 
tion, sin,  poverty,  and  wretchedness  of  a  certain  class  is 
exposed  to  view,  and,  seeing  it  at  a  glance,  it  appears  all  the 
more  terrible  to  us. 

Samuel  Morley,  a  member  of  Parliament,  said  at  a  meet- 
ing of  mine,  "  I  have  grave  apprehension  for  the  future 
of  this  country  unless  something  is  done  to  stem  this  terrible 
tide  of  evil."  This  increase  is  among  a  certain  portion  of 
the  working  classes  of  England,  and  I  will  not  dilate  further 
upon  them.  When  we  come  to  the  middling  classes,  — 
the  bone  and  sinew  of  any  nation,  physically,  intellectually, 
morally,  and  spiritually,  —  we  find  an  immense  improvement. 
There  is  very  much  less  drinking,  except,  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
among  a  certain  class  of  women.  There  it  is  increasing 
quietly,  but  surely.  I  never  heard,  I  am  sure,  of  so  much 
drinking  among  women ;  and  when  I  speak  of  women,  I 
mean  a  respectable  class  of  women.  This  increase  of  drunk- 
enness among  them  is  owing  to  the  "grocer's  license," 
which  is  a  license  permitting  grocers  to  sell  liquor  on  the 
premises,  and  in  small  quantities,  to  be  taken  away. 

But  an  immense  amount  of  work  is  done  in  England  in 
promoting  temperance.  It  is  glorious  to  go  there  and  engage 
in  such  work.  When  I  saw  the  evil,  and  the  energy  dis- 
played by  the  various  organizations  at  work  to  remove  it,  I 


520  INFLUENTIAL  CO-WORKERS. 

should  have  been  ashamed  to  come  back  to  America  had  I 
not  been  willing  to  throw  myself  into  this  conflict  and  work 
as  I  never  worked  in  my  life  before ;  for  at  this  time  I  did  the 
hardest  work  of  thirty  years.  The  Church  of  England  Tem- 
perance Society  now  numbers  fourteen  thousand  clergymen 
of  the  Church  of  England.  "  We  have  one  of  the  first  theolo- 
gians," some  one  said,  "in  Christendom,"  —  such  a  man  as 
Dr.  Lightfoot,  the  Bishop  of  Durham.  The  Dean  of  Durham 
presided  at  a  meeting  of  mine  held  in  Newcastle,  and  he 
made  the  most  wonderful  speech  I  think  I  ever  heard.  He 
said,  "  I  want  Mr.  Gough  to  tell  the  American  people  that 
the  Bishop  of  Durham  goes  up  and  down  this  great  diocese 
preaching  total  abstinence  with  the  gospel."  The  Bishop  of 
Bedford  said,  "I  am  going  to  my  diocese  in  Whitechapel, 
and  I  go  there  as  a  total  abstainer."  It  is  a  new  diocese,  and 
he  has  just  been  appointed  bishop.  Canon  Duckworth,  who 
went  with  his  Royal  Highness  to  India,  was  exceedingly  cor- 
dial to  me,  and  was  good  enough  to  say  at  the  meeting  in 
Westminster  Gardens  that  he  adopted  the  principle  of  total 
abstinence  from  hearing  me  speak  twenty  years  before. 

Not  only  in  the  Church  of  England,  but  in  all  the  Non- 
conformist bodies,  ministers  of  the  gospel  are  preaching  on 
temperance.  I  speak  of  the  Church  of  England  because  it 
is  so  extraordinarily  marked.  Westminster  Abbey,  for  in- 
stance, is  open  once  or  twice  every  year  for  a  temperance  ser- 
mon, and  Dean  Stanley  granted  the  use  of  it  with  all  his 
heart.  I  could  speak  of  other  classes  of  people,  members  of 
Parliament  and  other  influential  men,  who  are  exerting  a  good 
influence  in  behalf  of  our  movement.  And  those  men  who 
are  not  fully  in  sympathy  with  the  movement  are  speaking  of 
it  respectfully  and  helping  it  along  by  their  influence,  and  we 
should  be  very  glad  to  get  their  example  as  well. 

One  evening,  in  London,  I  accompanied  my  friend,  Dr. 


THE  HOXTON  HALL  MISSION.  521 

William  M.  Taylor,  to  a  meeting  in  Hoxton  Hall.v-  Mr.  Noble, 
the  leader  of  the  meeting,  said,  "  We  will  now  sing  a  hymn." 
The  hymn  was, — 

"  The  mistakes  of  my  life  have  been  many, 
The  sins  of  my  heart  have  been  more, 
But  with  eyes  streaming  with  tears 
1  am  knocking  at  mercy's  door." 

Many  of  the  audience  were  ragged  and  many  of  them  were 
very  poor,  and  the  sight  of  them  —  numbering  between  twelve 
and  fifteen  hundred  —  was  not  particularly  encouraging.  Yet 
those  meetings  have  been  kept  up  regularly  night  after  night 
without  intermission,  and  three  times  on  Sunday,  until  nearly 
six  hundred  successive  meetings -have  been  held  for  these  poor 
creatures  in  Hoxton  Hall.  This  is  a  new  branch  of  work, 
and  rich  men  aid  it.  Hoxton  Hall  was  a  horrible  place,  so 
bad  that  its  license  was  taken  away.  When  Mr.  Noble  was 
in  this  country  he  went  down  to  see  Jerry  McAuley's  Mission, 
and  while  there  he  said,  "I  will  go  back  and  start  such 
a  mission  as  this  in  London."  Jerry  McAuley's  Mission  is  the 
father,  we  might  say,  of  the  great  mission  work  in  Hoxton 
Hall.  The  night  Dr.  Taylor  was  there  with  me,  Mr.  Noble 
said,  "  Let  us  sing  our  favorite  hymn,  — 

'  When  I  survey  the  wondrous  cross 
On  which  the  Prince  of  Glory  died,'  " 

and  they  sang  it  with  a  will ;  and  during  the  two  minutes  of 
silent  prayer  that  followed  you  could  hear  their  breathing. 
The  leader  said,  "  When  you  have  got  a  pair  of  boots  and  a 
good  suit  of  clothes  on,  join  this  and  that  church ;  we  only 
want  the  ragged  and  wretched."  They  have  received  over 
twelve  thousand  pledges  in  that  hall.  The  lease  of  it  ran  out, 
and  the  question  was  asked,  "  What  will  it  cost  to  renew  the 
lease  ?  "  "  We  want  three  thousand  pounds,"  was  the  reply, 
and  the  money  was  furnished. 


522 


A  DRUNKEN  TEETOTALER. 


In  Edinburgh  there  is  a  total  abstinence  club-room,  and  so 
there  is  in  many  other  places.  The  rooms  are  lighted  and 
comfortably  heated,  and  furnished  with  tables,  newspapers, 
pictures,  dominoes,  chess,  checkers,  and  perhaps  a  baga- 
telle board,  and  here  men  spend  their  evenings.  You  say, 
"  Men  ought  to  spend  their  evenings  at  home."  There  are 
many  young  men  in  New  York  who  have  only  a  cold  garret 
to  go  to,  and  that  is  no  place  to  sit  all  alone,  or  with  a  com- 


panion   that    is 
not    congenial. 
They  want  places  where  they 
^^     can  enjoy  themselves  in  good, 
DON'T  PUT  ME  OUT,  I'M  A  TEE-     rational    recreation.       I    be- 

TOTALER."  ,.  .    T  T  T 

lieve    our    rich    men    could 

spend  their  money  to  good  advantage  in  providing  such 
places  for  the  encouragement  and  help  of  young  men.  A 
drunken  man  came  into  this  club-room  in  Edinburgh. 
He  was  so  drunk  that  he  could  hardly  stand.  Some 
one  said,  "  Do  you  know  what  place  this  is  ? "  "  Yes,  it 
is  a  teetotal  club-room."  "  But  you  are  drunk."  a  I  know 
I  am  drunk ;  I  am  a  drunk  teetotaler.  Did  you  never  see  a 
drunk  teetotaler  before  ?  Here  is  one ;  I  am  drunk."  "  You 
had  better  go  out  of  here,"  "  No,  no,  don't  put  me  out ;  I  'm 
a  teetotaler,  here  is  my  pledge  "  [taking  it  out  of  his  pocket]. 


CATCHING  THE  PEOPLE  WITH  GUILE.  523 

"  I  signed  the  pledge  an  hour  ago,  and,  so  help  me  God,  I 
have  n't  drank  a  drop  since.  I  have  come  in  here  for  safety." 
His  poor  brain  was  bewildered  with  drink,  and  he  wanted  a 
place  of  safety.  Where  did  he  go  ?  Why,  to  a  teetotal  club- 
room,  where  there  was  warmth,  and  light,  and  comfort,  and 
kind  friends  to  help  him,  and  that  man  is  now  one  of  the 
most  active  members  of  the  Total  Abstinence  Society. 

There  is  one  point  I  suppose  I  ought  to  touch  upon,  and 
that  is  the  medical  question.  That  branch  of  the  subject  is 
receiving  great  attention  in  England,  and  it  is  encouraging  to 
see  such  men  as  Sir  Henry  Thompson,  Sir  William  Gull,  and 
last,  but  not  least,  Dr.  Richardson,  working  in  the  temperance 
cause ;  and,  if  you  remember,  these  men  came  in  gradually. 
When  Dr.  Richardson  delivered  his  first  lecture  he  made  a 
a  special  arrangement  that  it  should  not  be  under  total  absti- 
nence agency  or  patronage.  Those  in  charge  of  the  lectures 
had  to  catch  the  people  with  guile,  and  they  were  called  the 
Cantor  Lectures.  They  became,  so  popular,  and  Dr.  Richard- 
son pursued  his  investigations  so  closely,  that  he  has  come  out 
a  thorough  total  abstainer.  I  know  there  are  doctors  who 
take  the  other  side,  and  it  is  a  great  controversy ;  but  we  like 
controversy,  we  like  battle.  It  was  grand  to  fight  there,  be- 
cause we  felt  we  had  something  to  fight  for.  We  were  not 
beating  the  air  ;  we  were  not  fighting  sympathy,  which  is  in- 
tangible and  so  heavy  a  burden  that  it  presses  one  down  to 
the  ground.  I  would  rather  have  strong  opposition,  and  there 
we  had  it.  I  told  them  I  was  not  a  medical  man  or  a  physi- 
ologist, and  therefore  I  was  glad  to  see  men  attend  to  that 
portion  of  our  work  who  understood  it. 

There  are  some  who  oppose  the  temperance  movement,  and 

the  most  absurd  things  have  been  written  and  published  with 

regard  to  the  use  of  alcohol.     I  think  it  is  Dr.  Moxon  —  I  am 

not  quite  sure  —  who  says  there  cannot  be  such  a  thing  as 

32 


524  SUFFERING  FOR  A  PRINCIPLE. 

reforming  a  drunkard.  I  hope  Dr.  Moxon  will  go  to  heaven, 
and  when  he  gets  there  he  will  find  men  who  have  fought 
their  appetite  and  washed  their  robes  and  made  them  white 
in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  Total  abstinence  has  been  to  them 
a  means  of  grace.  This  doctor  says  :  "  A  splendid  fellow,  a 
teetotaler,  came  to  me  for  professional  treatment.  I  advised 
him  to  take  stimulants ;  he  refused.  I  told  him  he  was  a 
fanatic,  and  he  died.  I  will  never  forgive  the  teetotalers  for 
^the  loss  of  that  noble  man."  What  rubbish  for  a  medical  man 
"to  utter  and  publish !  Sir  William  Gull  says  :  "  A  splendid- 
looking  fellow  came  under  my  care,  a  brewer's  drayman.  I 
did  my  best  to  save  him,  but  he  died.  His  body  swelled  to 
such  an  extent  that  I  punctured  it ;  the  gas  came  out,  and  I 
had  several  lights  burning  on  that  man's  body."  *  It  would  be 
just  as  consistent  to  say,  "  I  will  never  forgive  the  brewers  for 
the  death  of  that  noble  man,"  as  for  another  to  say  he  would 
not  forgive  teetotalers  for  the  death  of  "  that  noble  man." 

Fanatic  !  If  total  abstinence  is  to  be  a  principle,  if  I  hate 
the  drink,  am  I  not  bound  by  my  principle  to  suffer  pain,  even 
if  I  know  the  drink  will  relieve  me  from  it  ?  I  can  trust  to 
God  to  relieve  me  in  his  own  good  way.  To  those  men  who 
would  reform,  we  say,  "  You  should  be  willing  to  suffer  for  a 
principle."  Take  a  man  that  has  been  a  drunkard  for  ten  or 
twenty  years,  saturated  with  drink.  He  puts  his  name  on  the 
temperance  pledge  to-night.  You  say  it  will  be  a  good  thing 
for  him  if  he  only  keeps  it.  There  is  the  point.  Than  man 
can  keep  the  pledge  very  well  until  the  next  morning,  but 
when  the  next  morning  comes,  what  then  ?  The  suffering ! 
He  is  weak, — physically,  intellectually,  morally,  and  spiritually 
weak ;  he  cannot  hold  his  hands  steady ;  he  has  no  power  over 
his  nerves ;  he  is  suffering  from  the  horrible  shivers  and  the 
terrible  sensations  of  delirium  tremens. 


*  This  incident  is  taken  from  Sir  William  Gull's  testimony  before  the  com- 
mittee of  Uhe  House  of  Lords,  and  is  told  in  full  on  page  196. 


MY  OWN  EXPERIENCE. 


525 


Now  here  is  this  man  in  his  weakness,  longing  for  drink  as 
he  never  longed  for  anything  upon  earth  or  in  heaven.  Here 
conies  the  temptation.  Now  that  man  knows  that  if  he  takes 
a  glass  of  brandy  it  will  set  him  up,  he  knows  that  he  will 


NIGHT  OCT.  1SJ2.J 

THE   PAST. 

obtain  relief  if  he  takes  it.  Would  you  advise  him  to  take  it 
if  it  would  relieve  him  of  that  suffering?  All  the  pangs  of 
neuralgia,  rheumatism,  and  cramps  that  I  ever  felt  are  nothing 
to  what  I  suffered  the  last  Tuesday  night  of  October,  1842, 
when  I  stood  face  to  face  with  the  giant  that  held  me  by  one 


526  MR-  AND  MRS-  SPURGEOX. 

finger  for  years.  Ought  a  man  to  violate  his  principle  for  a 
little  touch  of  neuralgia  ? 

Let  us  stand  by  the  principle  of  total  abstinence,  and 
laugh  to  scorn  those  who  say  that  it  is  good  for  us  to  take 
intoxicating  liquor  as  a  medicine.  A  man  belonging  to  the 
Hoxton  Hall  Blue-ribbon  Army,  who  had  been  a  drunkard, 
was  taken  ill,  and  the  doctor  said,  "Total  abstinence  won't 
suit  you,  you  must  take  a  little  ale."  "  How  much,  doctor?  " 
"  You  must  take  half  a  pint  of  stout  with  your  dinner,  and 
half  a  pint  of  beer  before  you  go  to  bed."  "Is  that  all?" 
inquired  the  man.  " Yes,"  said  the  doctor.  "Well,  doctor," 
said  he,  "  if  I  take  half  a  pint  of  stout  for  my  dinner,  four 
quarts  won't  satisfy  me,  and  I  shall  drink  until  I  am  mad." 
He  replied,  "  Then  you  had  better  not  take  it  at  all."  I  hold 
with  a  great  many  good  men  in  England,  that  intoxicating 
liquor  is  not  necessary  even  as  a  medicine  ;  in  some  cases  the 
doctors  have  done  the  cause  of  temperance  harm. 

There  was  another  pleasant  circumstance  connected  with 
my  stay  in  England,  and  that  was  the  acquaintance  which  I 
made  with  Mr.  Spurgeon.  I  had  never  met  him  ;  for,  although 
I  had  spoken  in  his  tabernacle  three  times,  I  had  never  seen 
him.  Twice  he  was  away  at  Mentone,  suffering  from  his 
sad  disease,  rheumatic  gout,  and  on  another  occasion  he 
was  called  away,  and  could  not  be  at  the  meeting.  I  met  his 
brother,  and  said,  "I  am  determined  to  see  your  brother 
Charles,  and  I  will  see  him."  Mr.  Spurgeon  very  kindly 
wrote,  "  You  wish  to  see  me  not  more  than  I  wish  to  see  you." 
I  went  to  his  house,  and  he  captured  me.  I  fell  in  love  with 
him  at  first  sight,  and  I  believe  my  wife  fell  in  love  with  his 
wife.  He  is  a  wonderful  man,  and  his  wife  is  a  remarkable 
woman.  In  "Sunlight  and  Shadow"  I  have  given  in  detail 
an  account  of  a  visit  to  his  orphanages. 

I  wish  to  say  here  that  Mr.  Spurgeon  is  a  thorough  total 


A  BRAVE   LITTLE   WOMAN.  527 

abstainer.  His  wife,  too,  is  a  pronounced  total  abstainer. 
She  has  not  been  out  of  her  house,  except  when  taken  out  in 
a  chair,  for  twelve  years.  She  has  some  internal  disease  that 
is  exceedingly  painful,  so  that  about  one  day  in  three  she  is 
confined  to  her  bed,  and  can  see  no  one.  Mr.  Spurgeon  said 
to  me :  "  My  wife  is  a  brave  little  woman.  She  said  to  me, 
when  she  was  taking  wine  and  ale  by  the  doctor's  prescription, 
eight  years  ago,  4  Charles,  did  you  ever  know  of  a  lady  becom- 
ing a  drunkard  ?  '  4  Yes,  my  dear.'  c  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a 
lady  in  my  position  becoming  a  drunkard?'  4  Yes,  my  dear, 
I  have.'  Then  she  said,  '  You  will  never  hear  that  of  me,  for 
I  will  never  touch  another  drop.',  4  But,  my  dear,  you  must ; 
the  doctor  will  oblige  you  to  do  it.'  '  No,  the  doctor  will  not 
oblige  me  to  do  it,  for  I  will  never  taste  it ;  it  shall  never  pass 
my  lips  again.'  From  that  time  till  this,  in  all  her  sufferings 
and  spasms,  she  has  never  used  intoxicating  liquor."  Mr. 
Spurgeon  says  that  she  is  very  slowly  getting  a  little  better. 
He  said  to  me  that  a  certain  physician  prescribed  for  her,  and 
said  that  she  must  learn  to  be  an  opium-eater  if  she  would  be 
relieved  from  her  pain.  "  That  doctor,"  said  Mr.  Spurgeon, 
"has  been  dead  for  several  years,  and  my  wife  is  living  yet." 
I  wish  to  say  that  Mr.  Spurgeon  has  not  been  a  total  ab- 
stainer for  a  great  length  of  time.  He  said  to  me:  "My 
constitution  is  such  that  I  need,  and  must  have,  bitter.  I  am 
very  fond  of  bitter  beer ;  I  enjoyed  it  and  drank  it  freely. 
But  now  I  have  substituted  something  that  is  bitter  without 
a  particle  of  intoxicating  spirit  in  it,  and  that  I  use."  He 
asked  me  to  taste  it,  and  I  did.  It  was  very  bitter,  but  there 
was  no  alcohol  in  it. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 


POWER   OF    WOMAN S    INFLUENCE  —  SOCIAL  CUSTOMS    THAT 
LEAD  TO   RUIN  —  MEMORABLE  INCIDENTS   IN  MY   CAREER. 

Woman's  Power  and  Influence  —  A  True  Incident  —  How  Joe  Was  Induced 
to  Sign  the  Pledge  —  One  Year  Afterwards  —  A  Romantic  Story  —  An 
Intemperate  Lover  —  A  Romance  from  Real  Life  —  A  Telling  Crusade 
Against  a  Dram-shop  —  A  WellrPlanned  Campaign  —  An  Astonished 
Rumseller  —  "  Worse  Than  it  Was  Yesterday  "  —  Deciding  Who  Was  the 
Head  of  the  House  —  A  Memorable  Incident  in  My  Career  —  Twenty 
Years  After  — Young  Girls  Who  Drink— The  Downward  Path  — A 
Lover  Tempted  by  His  Affianced  —  The  Shaft  of  Ridicule  -  The  Fall  — 
Tempter  and  Tempted  —  Found  Dead  —  Social  Customs  That  Lead  to 
Ruin  —  Unwelcome  Guests  —  Incidents  of  My  Work  in  Cincinnati  —  A 
Shower  of  One  Hundred  and  Forty-three  Autograph  Albums  —  Writing 
the  Pledge  in  Each  One  — What  Followed  — A  Flood  of  Eight  Hun- 
dred Albums  —  Story  of  the  Colored  Preacher  —  Jumping  Through  a 
Wall. 

X=X.        /=V 

HAVE  a  strong  belief  in  the 
rights  of  woman,  though  I 
may  not  be  what  in  the  or 
dinary  phrase  is  styled  "£ 
woman's  rights  man."  In  tru.< 
Bible  account  of  her  creation, 
which  will  forever  be  unap- 
proachable in  its  simple,  yet  exalted, 
beauty,  we  find  that  the  beasts  were 
made  out  of  the  ground,  man  was 
formed  of  the  dust,  but  woman  was 
"builded"  (as  the  margin  has  it)  afterwards  and  of  different 
material.  She  was  to  be  a  "helpmeet"  for  man,  his  equal, 
and  the  recipient  of  his  heart,  mind,  and  affections ;  and  at 
her  creation  she  was  "  brought "  to  her  husband.  Adam  was 
no  savage  at  his  creation.  He  had  the  tastes,  the  knowledge, 

528 


A  MIGHTY  POWER  FOR  GOOD  OR  EVIL.  529 

and  occupations  of  what  we  call  a  high  state  of  civilization, 
and  woman  was  brought  to  him,  his  equal  companion.  He 
did  not  buy  her,  she  was  no  slave,  but  equal,  a  help  "not 
good "  to  be  without.  Adam's  first  employment  was  horti- 
culture. His  first  son  was  a  farmer,  his  second  a  shepherd, 
and  Cain  built  a  city  —  none  of  which  .are  the  doings  of  sav- 
ages. The  fifth  in  descent  from  Cain  had  a  wonderful  family 
in  several  respects;  in  forms  of  tent  life,  in  the  care  of 
cattle,  making  musical  instruments,  in  work  in  metals ;  and 
woman  was  the  companion  in  all  this.  She  was  made  with  a 
more  delicate  organization  and  capacity,  but  of  equal  import- 
ance and  equal  responsibility.  Adam  and  Eve  were  both 
called  to  account  for  disobedience ;  though  the  punishment 
was  equally  severe,  it  was  different  in  kind.  If  our  day  had 
been  the  day  of  creation,  woman  would  not  have  been  required 
to  fight  Indians,  to  train  with  the  militia,  to  run  with  the 
fire-engine,  to  climb  the  building-ladder,  or  work  the  ship  in 
storms.  But  who  shall  say  that  woman's  work  in  connection 
with  the  facts  of  our  life  is  not  equal  to  man's  work  ?  What 
is  she  doing  for  the  Indians?  Could  her  work  in  the  com- 
mon cause  have  been  spared  in  our  late  war?  Now  what 
does  this  necessarily  imply?  Why,  equal  responsibility,  of 
course,  and  there  is  no  power  that  can  be  exercised  by  man, 
stronger  or  more  important  than  her  influence. 

The  wife  has  an  influence  to  exert,  and  it  is  a  most  astound- 
ing thing  to  me  that  so  many  ladies  look  askance  at  the  sub- 
ject of  temperance.  What  is  there  undignified  in  doing 
away  with  a  miserable,  paltry  custom  ?  It  is  time-honored 
and  old-fashioned,  certainly.  What  mighty  power  a  woman 
has  for  good  or  for  evil ;  a  word  of  sympathy  from  her  lips 
goes  a  great  way.  Many  and  many  a  man  has  been  saved  by 
waking  to  the  consciousness  that  some  tender-hearted,  pure 
woman  felt  some  sympathy  for  him  and  some  interest  in  him, 


530  HOW  JOE  WAS  SAVED. 

though  he  was  debased  and  degraded.  I  remember  a  circum- 
stance that  occurred  after  one  of  my  lectures  in  a  small  town, 
while  the  people  were  signing  the  pledge.  Several  ladies  had 
been  watching  the  proceedings  with  considerable  interest,  and 
one  of  them  said  to  me,  "  Mr.  Gough,  I  wish  you  would  go 
out  to  the  door  and  get  Joe  to  sign  the  pledge."  I  did  not 
know  Joe  from  Jehoshaphat,  but  I  went  outside,  and  there, 
leaning  against  the  post  was  a  poor,  miserable-looking  fellow 
that  I  thought  must  be  Joe.  So  I  said,  — 

"  How  do  you  do,  Joe  ?  " 

"  The  boys  have  been  pelting  me  with  stones." 

"  They  don't  pelt  you  with  stones  when  you  are  sober,  do 
they?" 

"  No,  I  don't  know  as  they  do." 

"Joe,"  I  said,  "you  are  serving  a  hard  master.  I  have 
served  him  myself.  You  are  receiving  his  wages,  and  I  will 
tell  you  that  you  would  be  much  better  off  if  you  were  to  do 
his  work  without  any  wages  at  all,  for  his  wages  are  worse 
than  his  work ;  but  you  need  not  serve  him  any  longer ;  do 
as  I  and  hundreds  of  others  have  done,  become  a  sober  man, 
and  then  the  boys  won't  pelt  you.  Come  and  sign  the 
pledge." 

"  I  have  not  got  a  friend  in  the  world." 

"  I  know  what  that  is,  Joe  ;  for  five  years  of  my  life  I  was 
in  that  condition ;  but  if  you  sign  rhe  pledge,  there  are 
hundreds  of  honest  men  and  women  who  will  be  friends  to 
you.  Some  of  the  ladies  inside  sent  me  to  you  and  asked 
me  to  come  out  and  get  you  to  sign." 

"Did  they,  though?" 

"Yes,  they  did." 

"Did  they,  really?" 

"Yes,"  I  said;  "come  along,  and  you'll  see." 

He  went  with  me,  and  we  offered  him  the  pledge,  arid  he 


A  MARKED   CHANGE  FOR  THE   BETTER. 


531 


tried  to  sign  it,  but  his  fingers  went  in  every  direction ;  lie 
positively  could  not  hold  the  pen.  I  wrote  his  name,  and  he 
made  a  mark,  and  I  held  his  hand  while  he  did  it.  Several 


JOE. 

ladies   then   came    and    shook 

hands   with    him.     He  looked 

as   if    he    had    never    shaken 

hands   with    a   lady  before  in 

his   life,  and  he  went  out  of 

the  hall  a  better  man  than  he  came  in.     A  year  afterwards 

I  met  Joe  in  the  street.     It  was  the  fashion  then  to  wear  a 

blue  coat  with  brass  buttons,  and  he  had  one  on.      His  hat 

was  neatly  brushed,  his  trousers  were  strapped  neatly  down 


ONE   YEAR   AFTERWARDS. 


532  POWER  OF  WOMAN'S  SYMPATHY. 

over  boots  more  highly  polished  than  mine  generally  are  ;  he 
looked  quite  the  gentleman,  and  had  a  lady  on  his  arm.  I 
said  to  him  : — 

"Why,  Joe,  is  that  you?" 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  that 's  me." 

"  You  're  getting  on  finely,  Joe,  are  n't  you  ?  How  do 
you  do  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  I  am  getting  along  pretty  well." 

44  You've  stuck  to  your  pledge,  have  n't  you?" 

"Yes,"  said  he,  "and  the  ladies  have  stuck  to  me  ever 
since." 

He  is  now  a  useful  and  honorable  member  of  society,  and 
the  cause  of  his  reformation  was  the  feeling  that  somebody 
cared  for  him,  and  that  somebody  a  woman. 

There  are  young  men  entering  the  vortex  to-day,  and  some 
of  you  ladies  have  power  to  stop  them.  You  have  power  to 
throw  an  influence  round  them  that  will  save  them.  You 
have  power  to  do  it  in  a  very  great  degree  by  sympathy. 
What  is  not  a  woman's  sympathy  worth  ?  A  word  of  sympa- 
thy from  a  woman's  lips  has  many  a  time  melted  a  hard  heart. 
I  remember  reading  of  an  incident  that  occurred  many  years 
ago  in  reference  to  a  man  who  afterward  made  himself  famous 
as  a  historian  and  statesman.  Though  he  was  a  very  intem- 
perate man,  he  loved  a  lady,  and  she  acknowledged  that  she 
loved  him ;  "  but,"  said  she,  "  until  you  will  pledge  me  your 
honor,  as  a  gentleman,  that  you  will  never  again  touch  intoxi- 
cating liquor,  my  hand  cannot  be  yours."  He  went  away,  and 
was  very  angry,  for  he  wished  to  have  no  such  rule  imposed 
upon  him.  But  he  loved  her,  and  back  again  he  went,  and 
received  the  same  answer.  He  went  away  again,  and  again 
returned,  but  with  the  same  result.  He  pleaded,  and  she 
weepingly  refused;  and  so  it  went  on.  One  day,  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  city  where  he  lived  (and  when  I  visited  that 


ONLY  A  WOMAN'S  HANDKERCHIEF.  533 

city  I  was  shown  the  place),  the  lady  was  passing,  and  saw 
some  one  lying  beside  the  road.  Curiosity  induced  her  to 
look ;  and  there  she  saw  the  man  who  had  knelt  at  her  feet, 
the  man  who  had  asked  her  to  become  his  bride ;  there  he 
lay,  the  hot  sun  blistering  his  forehead  as  he  lay  stupefied, 
stultified  with  the  drink.  She  pitied  him,  felt  sorrow  for  him, 
but  what  could  she  do?  She  took  her  handkerchief  and 
spread  it  gently  over  his  face,  that  the  sun's  rays  might  not 
burn  him,  and  went  away.  Afterwards  he  came  to  himself, 
and  staggered  to  a  dram-shop  near  at  hand,  unconsciously 
putting  the  handkerchief  in  his  pocket. 

He  was  a  man  of  wealth,  but  guardians  were  placed  over 
him,  and  his  property  was  put  under  some  restrictions ;  yet 
he  could  always  get  drunk.  On  arriving  at  the  dram-shop  he 
said,  "  Give  me  some  brandy ; "  and  brandy  was  put  before 
him.  He  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  —  the  handkerchief  was 
there.  He  looked  at  it,  and  said,  "Holloa!  what's  this?  a 
handkerchief?"  He  spread  it  out,  and  in  the  corner  he  saw 
her  name.  Turning  to  the  barkeeper  he  exclaimed,  "  Here's 
your  brandy,  sir.  Brandy !  no  more  of  it,  not  a  drop ;  Oh 
my  God !  not  another  drop  ;  never !  never !  never !  "  He 
went  to  the  lady,  and,  upon  his  knees,  swore  before  God  that 
he  would  never  drink  again.  She  gave  her  hand  to  him  and 
they  were  wedded.  He  afterwards  rose  to  eminence,  and  he 
never  tasted  intoxicating  liquor  again.  This  was  all  achieved 
by  her  firmness,  decision,  and  sympathy.  Oh  you  have  power^ 
ladies,  by  a  word  of  sympathy  and  kindness,  to  do  much. 
There  are  many  ladies  whose  friends  and  whose  relatives, 
perhaps,  may  be  in  danger.  You  can  exert  a  powerful  influ- 
ence over  them  if  you  will. 

We  need  a  strong  spirit  of  determination,  and  women 
generally  have  that;  and  when  they  set  out  to  do  a  thing 
they  almost  always  accomplish  it,  if  it  is  possible.  In  a  cer- 


534 


A  BAND  OF  DETERMINED  INVADERS. 


tain  town  in  Massachusetts  every  dram-shop  but  one  had 
been  broken  up,  and  the  ladies  determined  that  that  one 
should  exist  no  longer.  About  one  hundred  and  fifty  of 
them  joined  together  and  formed  themselves  into  committees 
of  twelve.  They  went  to  the  liquor-seller's  shop,  and  one 

talked  ten  min- 
utes, and  another 
twenty,  and  an- 
other half  an 
hour,  and  so  on, 
and  all  twelve 
gave  him  a  thor- 
ough-going tem- 
perance speech. 
When  they  were 
gone,  the  poor 
fellow  looked 
very  serious. 
Said  he,  "  That's 
about  the  tough- 
est  morning's 
work  I've  had 
for  some  time ; 
Idon't  under- 
stand  it.  But, 


"  YOU  'BE    COMING    AGAIN,    ABE    YOU?" 


however,  they  '11  find  they  can  't  move  me,  you  know."  The 
next  day  a  second  committee  came  in ;  each  one  talked  to 
him,  and  when  all  were  gone  the  poor  fellow  said,  "  That 's 
worse  than  it  was  yesterday;  they're  coming  thicker  and 
faster;  but  I'm  standing  on  my  rights,  they  can't  move 
me."  The  next  day  a  third  commit'tee  came ;  he  saw  they 
were  all  different  ladies,  and  he  said,  "Hold  on  a  minute; 
how  many  are  there  of  you?"  "Why,  there  are  twelve 


FAITH  IN  WOMAN'S  INFLUENCE.  535 

of  us.  We  are  the  third  committee  ;  there  are  twelve  com- 
mittees, and  when  we  have  all  visited  you,  we  '11  begin  again.' 
"Hold  on.  If  a  man  is  to  die,  let  him  die  in  peace.  You're 
coming  again,  are  you?  Well  if  you'll  give  it  up,  I  will." 
And  he  broke  up  his  establishment.  Now  I  do  not  mention 
this  to  show  particularly  that  the  ladies  have  strong  conver- 
sational powers  largely  developed,  but  that  they  have  perse- 
verance. 

We  want  them  to  engage  in  this  movement.  I  believe  if 
the  ladies  of  this  country  should  declare,  "  I  will  neither 
drink  nor  present  intoxicating  liquor  as  a  beverage  from 
this  time  forth,"  the  drinking  customs  would  fall  into  dis- 
repute in  six  months.  I  tell  you  it  is  the  women  who 
can  regulate  and  control  the  social  customs  of  the  coun- 
try. It  is  of  no  use  for  some  young  men  to  say :  "  I  don't 
care  what  the  women  think ;  "  you  do,  you  do ;  you  can- 
not help  it.  It  is  unnatural  for  man  not  to  care  for  what 
women  think.  I  know  it  is  very  fashionable  sometimes 
to  speak  contemptuously  of  woman.  I  never  heard  a  man 
speak  contemptuously  of  a  woman  without  thinking  that  he 
never  had  a  good  mother,  or  a  good  sister,  or  a  good  wife ; 
for  I -defy  any  man  that  ever  kneeled  at  his  mother's  side  and 
felt  her  soft,  warm  hand  resting  on  his  head,  and  who  can 
remember  the  little  prayer  his  mother  taught  him,  to  speak 
contemptuously  of  woman.  I  have  strong  faith  in  woman's 
influence. 

"  O  woman,  lovely  woman, 
Nature  made  thee  to  temper  man; 
We  had  been  brutes  without  ye; 
Angels  are  painted  fair  to  look  like  you; 
There 's  in  you  all  we  believe  of  heaven, 
Eternal  joy  and  everlasting  love." 

That  may  be  a  little  extravagant,  but  woman's  influence 
is  almost  unbounded.  A  gentleman  told  the  following  story 


536  A  MEMORABLE  EXPERIENCE. 

at  one  of  my  meetings  in  Scotland.  A  husband  said  to  his 
wife,  "  Now,  wife,  you  know  I  am  the  head  of  the  house." 
"  Well,"  said  she,  "you  can  be  the  head  if  you  wish;  I  am 
the  neck."  "  Yes,"  said  he,  "you  shall  be  the  neck."  "But 
don't  you  know,"  said  she,  "  the  neck  turns  the  head  ?  " 

And  yet,  with  all  my  respect  for  womankind,  I  say  the 
women  are  culpable,  and  are  responsible  for  much  of  the 
evil  of  drunkenness.  Let  me  give  you  a  fact.  Many  years 
ago  I  was  living  in  Roxbury,  Massachusetts,  and  I  started  to 
hear  the  Germanias  render  Beethoven's  Fifth  Symphony,  in 
Boston,  one  Saturday  evening.  As  I  came  to  the  place  where 
the  omnibuses  met  (we  had  no  street-cars  then),  I  heard  the 
sound  of  merriment  and  laughter,  and,  as  I  am  very  fond  of 
fun,  I  thought  I  would  see  what  was  going  on.  I  found  a 
group  of  young  men,  and  in  the  centre  was  a  young  girl, 
seventeen  years  of  age,  as  I  learned  afterward.  She  was 
very  drunk.  The  young  men  were  pushing  her  about  in  the 
rudest  manner.  One  would  push  her  one  way,  and  another 
the  other.  I  said  :  "  Do  you  call  it  sport  to  push  that  help- 
less girl  about  like  that?"  Somebody  said,  "  That's  Gough." 
I  said,  "Yes,  that  is  my  name."  They  allowed  me  to 
approacli  the  girl,  who  was  swaying  to  and  fro,  —  she  'could 
not  stand  still,  —  and  was  crying  bitterly,  uttering  that  wail 
pitiful  to  hear  from  an  animal,  but  far  more  pitiful  to  hear 
from  a  woman.  I  said,  "Where  do  you  live?"  It  was  some 
time  before  she  could  or  would  answer  me.  She  was  so 
drunk  she  stammered  badly.  At  last,  by  patience,  I  ascer- 
tained the  name  of  the  street  and  number  of  the  house 
where  she  lived.  Then  I  said  to  her,  "Now,  if  you  will 
trust  me,  if  you  will  take  my'  arm,  I  will  see  you  safely 
home."  She  put  her  hands  to  her  white  face,  and  looked 
at  me,  and  then  grasped  my  arm  as  a  drowning  man 
would  catch  at  a  plank.  I  walked  with  her  a  mile  and  a 


A  GOOD-NATURED   OLD   IDIOT.  539 

half.  It  was  hard  work,  but  at  length  we  reached  the  house, 
and  I  rang  the  bell.  The  servant  came  to  the  door ;  I  told 
her  who  I  was,  and  said  :  "  I  found  this  young  lady  in  the 
streets,  and  she  says  that  she  lives  here."  "  Oh,  my  good 
gracious !  "  said  the  servant,  and  pulled  the  girl  into  the 
house,  and  shut  the  door. 

As  I  went  to  the  concert,  I  said  to  myself,  "  People  like 
to  talk,  especially  about  teetotalers.  I  have  been  seen  walk- 
ing through  the  streets  to-night  with  a  drunken  woman,  arm 
in  arm,  and  they  will  talk  about  it.  Well,  let  them  talk ;  I 
can  talk,  too.  I  have  a  meeting  to-morrow  night ;  Mr.  Grant 
is  to  preside,  and  at  the  close  of  my  lecture  I  will  tell  the 
whole  affair ; "  and  so  I  did.  At  the  close  of  the  meeting 
a  lady  and  gentleman  pushed  up  to  me,  holding  out  their 
hands.  "God  bless  you!"  "For  what?"  "For  bringing 
our  daughter  home  last  night."  "What,  your  daughter?" 
"  Yes,  poor  child,"  said  the  mother,  "  she  is  lying  ill  in  bed, 
and  we  have  left  her  to  come  to  you  arid  say,  '  God  bless  yoii.' 
Oh,  if  you  had  left  her  with  those  young  men,  what  would 
have  become  of  our  child  ?  —  or  if  the  policeman  had  taken 
her  to  the  station-house,  she  would  never  have  lifted  her 
head  again.  She  was  not  to  blame.  There  was  a  wedding 
at  her  aunt's  last  week.  Not  being  very  well,  I  thought  she 
had  better  not  go  to  the  ceremony.  But  yesterday  was  a 
clear,  cold  day,  and  I  said,  4  You  had  better  call  on  your 
aunt.  You  can  return  in  the  omnibus  by  nightfall.'  She 
went,  and  when  she  reached  the  house  she  said,  *  T  am  feel- 
ing very  cold ; '  and  her  aunt  [one  of  those  hospitable,  good- 
natured  old  idiots  that  we  sometimes  meet]  said,  4 1  will  give 
you  something  to  warm  you,  my  dear,'  and  she  gave  her 
a  glass  of  hot  whiskey  punch.  My  daughter  had  never 
tasted  liquor  before.  We  are  teetotalers,  and  never  have  a 
drop  of  the  cursed  thing  in  the  house,  and  she  did  not  know 


540  TWENTY   YEARS   AFTER. 

what  it  was.  She  drank  it,  and  began  to  feel  badly,  and 
said,  4  Aunt,  I  must  go  home.'  4  Well,  my  dear,'  said  her 
aunt,  'you  must  take  a  piece  of  the  wedding  cake  to  your 
mamma,  and  you  must  drink  a  glass  of  the  wine  we  had  at 
the  wedding ; '  and  she  poured  out  a  glass,  and  the  child 
drank  it.  When  she  came  out  and  had  reached  the  corner 
of  the  street,  she  became  bewildered ;  she  did  not  know  what 
the  matter  was.  After  that  she  had  no  recollection  of  any- 
thing, but  a  dim,  indefinite,  confused  idea  of  something,  she 
knew  not  what,  till  she  found  herself  in  bed  with  her  mother 
bending  over  her." 

Twenty  years  after  that,  a  lady  came  to  me  in  Music  Hall, 
Boston,  and  said :  "  I  am  a  wife  and  mother,  and  a  member 
of  a  Christian  church,  and  I  am  that  girl  you  helped  home 
when  drunk."  You  may  say,  "  That  is  a  bad  precedent." 
Bah,  bah !  for  your  precedents.  There  are  some  men  and 
women  who,  for  fear  of  establishing  a  precedent,  cannot  lift 
a  poor  human  soul  from  perdition.  They  want  a  precedent. 
Perish  precedents !  If  I  see  a  woman  in  trouble,  and  I  can 
consistently  help  her  out  of  that  trouble,  I  never  ask  who  she 
is,  or  how  she  fell  into  the  trouble,  until  I  have  helped  her 
out.  That  is  my  plan,  and  it  should  be  yours.  Help  them 
out  first,  and  talk  to  them  afterwards  of  their  wrong-doings. 
And  when  that  girl,  or  rather  that  Christian  wife  and  mother, 
held  my  hand  in  hers,  I  thanked  God  that  I  had  helped  a 
drunken  girl  home. 

"  Oh,"  you  say,  "  you  ought  to  be  very  careful,  especially 
in  large  cities,  you  ought  to  be  very  careful  about  what  you 
do."  Here  is  a  human  being  in  trouble,  and  you  must  be 
"  very  careful "  how  you  help  her  out.  Suppose  you  see  a 
man  drowning.  He  cries  out  for  help.  You  do  not  ask, 
"Are  you  a  Christian?  What  religious  denomination  do 
you  belong  to?  What  class  of  society  do  you  move  in?" 


DRINKING  AMONG  WOMEN.  541 

You  do  not  hesitate  to  help  him.  And  I  tell  you  this,  if  he 
was  the  greatest  burglar  that  ever  lived,  you  would  help 
him  out  first  and  put  him  in  jail  afterward.  Help  him  out ! 
It  is  our  business  to  help  men  and  women  out  of  their  diffi- 
culties; and  it  is  our  business  to  do  what  we  can  to  prevent 
others  from  falling  into  trouble. 

What  do  you  think  of  a  woman  whose  husband  beats  her, 
and  who,  when  a  good  teetotaler  says  to  her,  "Exert  your 
influence  and  get  your  husband  to  sign  the  pledge,"  exclaims, 
"Well,  Dr.  Mudge,  I  should  like  to  see  my  husband  get  on 
in  the  world,  but  I  should  not  exactly  like  him  to  sign  the 
pledge,  for  I  must  have  my  pint  of  beer,  and  if  he  did  not 
drink  it  he  would  not  let  me  have  it."  What  do  you  think 
of  such  a  woman  ?  I  think  the  beer  must  have  stultified  her 
better  feelings.  I  was  very  much  shocked  in  England  and 
Scotland  to  see  young  girls  entering  a  public-house  and 
drinking  in  public  places  with  young  men.  What  can  they 
expect  such  conduct  to  lead  to?  Does  such  a  young  girl 
think  what  the  result  will  be  of  sitting  there  with  that  young 
man  who  tells  her  he  loves  her,  and  yet  will  ask  her  to  drink 
a  glass  of  liquor  with  him?  Does  such  a  man  love  you? 
Oh,  if  that  woman  would  say,  "If  you  offer  me  that,  I  have 
an  idea  of  the  estimation  in  which  you  hold  me."  I  rejoice 
that  drinking  among  women  is  not  so  common  here  as  in 
Great  Britain,  but  the  custom  is  growing  upon  us. 

I  find  that  those  who  give  intoxicating  liquor  do  not,  as  a 
rule,  sympathize  with  those  that  suffer  from  it.  A  gentle- 
man in  the  city  of  Troy  told  me  of  a  young  lawyer  Avho  was 
a  notorious  drunkard.  He  signed  the  temperance  pledge, 
went  away  and  practised  law  in  the  West,  and  came  back 
with  considerable  property.  He  had  been  engaged  to  a 
young  lady  who  professed  to  love  him,  but  the  marriage  had 
been  postponed  on  account  of  his  drinking  habits.  He  came 
3.} 


542  THE  POWER  OF  RIDICULE. 

back  sober  and  a  party  was  given  in  honor  of  the  event.  The 
young  lady  and  the  belle  of  the  evening  made  up  their  minds 
that  they  would  get  him  to  drink  some  wine.  They  coaxed 
him,  and  vexed  him,  and  provoked  him,  and  began  to  ridicule 
him. 

There  are  some  persons  you  cannot  move  by  argument  or 
by  reason  —  you  cannot  lead  them,  you  cannot  drive  them, 
you  cannot  coax  them ;  but  they  have  a  soft  place,  as  every 
man  has  somewhere,  and  the  shaft  of  ridicule  will  often  touch 
it.  It  was  the  case  with  this  young  man ;  he  could  not  resist 
ridicule.  In  desperation  he  took  the  proffered  glass  of  wine, 
and  drank  it.  He  was  not  sober  for  ten  days.  The  cashier 
of  the  bank  kept  him  in  his  own  house  and  did  everything  he 
could  to  cheer  him  up,  for  he  was  almost  broken-hearted, 
feeling  that  his  prospects  were  ruined.  He  got  him  up  and 
dressed  him;  and,  freed  somewhat  from  the  influence  of 
the  debauch,  he  went  to  the  lady's  house  to  call  and  was 
rejected  contemptuously,  and  the  door  was  shut  in  his  face* 
In  ten  days  from  that  time  he  was  found  in  an  open  field 
dead,  having  drank  himself  to  death.  Now  I  say  that  that 
lady  either  had  no  right  to  give  him  drink,  or  she  had  no 
right  to  spurn  him  when  he  fell  by  her  own  act.  A  man  has 
no  right  to  put  temptation  in  the  way  of  his  brother ;  but  if 
he  tempts  him,  and  his  brother  falls,  he  is  bound  to  put  his 
arm  round  him  and  help  him  up  again. 

Young  women,  don't  wait  to  testify  against  these  drinking 
customs  till  you.  have  been  crushed  by  them.  Testify  against 
them  now  and  resolve,  "  I  will  never  again  touch  the  wine,  I 
will  never  again  present  it."  I  know  some  persons  will  say, 
"But  shall  I  dictate  to  my  guest  what  he  is  to  take  when  he 
comes  to  see  me?"  Yes,  to  be  sure.  There  is  not  a  guest  on 
the  face  of  the  earth,  that  would  be  so  bold,  —  so  bad,  indeed, 
—  as  to  declare  to  you  that  you  must  give  him  whatever 


QUESTIONABLE  MANNERS. 


543 


he  sees  fit  to  demand.  Suppose  you  invite  a  guest  to  your 
house.  You  cover  your  table  with  everything  that  is  requi- 
site ;  and  after  your  guest  has  eaten  his  dinner,  he  takes  out 
of  his  pocket  a  huge  black  pipe  and  a  roll  of  tobacco  called 
nigger-head,  which  he  begins  to  cut,  quietly  observing  that 
there  can  be  no  objection  to  his  enjoying  himself,  as  he  is  in 
the  habit  of  smoking  after  dinner  at  home.  Would  you 
suffer  your  dining- 
room  to  be  polluted 
in  this  manner? 
No.  You  would 
start  to  your  feet, 
and,  addressing 
your  visitor,  would 
say,  "How  dare  ~ 
you,  or  any  man, 
take  it  upon  your- 
self to  defile  my 
home  because  you 
defile  your  own?" 
N"o  man  has  a  right 
to  demand  that  you 
produce  wine  on  your  table  solely  for  his  gratification.  If 
you  are  afraid  of  losing  your  guest  because  you  do  not 
place  wine  before  him,  the  sooner  he  dines  somewhere  else 
the  better. 

I  have  a  home  in  the  country.  In  summer  time  we  have 
strawberries,  rich  and  luscious,  and  when  my  friends  come  out 
to  visit  me,  I  always  supply  them.  But  if  any  one  should 
come  to  my  house  and  say,  "  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  came 
not  to  see  you,  not  to  hold  conversation  with  you,  but  to  eat 
your  strawberries,"  I  would  say  to  him,  "The  sooner  you 
go  about  your  business,  the  better;  you  had  better  seek 


AN   UNWELCOME   GUEST. 


544  INTERESTING  INCIDENTS. 

strawberries  somewhere  else."  And  I  would  have  my  fair 
friends  and  others  adopt  the  same  course  when  a  person  ac- 
cepts an  invitation  not  for  the  sake  of  their  society,  but  for 
the  sake  of  the  wine.  Young  ladies,  I  would  ask  you  to  put 
your  names  to  the  total  abstinence  pledge ;  or  if  you  will  not 
do  that,  agree  that  you  will  not  offer  intoxicating  liquors  to 
others,  and  consider  yourselves  as  no  longer  required  to 
furnish  them  for  your  guests. 

When  I  was  in  the  city  of  Cincinnati  several  interesting 
events  took  place  there,  and  one  of  them  I  will  relate.  I 
went  to  the  female  college  to  speak  to  the  ladies,  and  one 
of  them  said  to  me,  "  Mr.  Gough,  will  you  write  in  my 
album  ?  "  "I  don't  know  what  to  write,"  said  I.  "  Write 
the  pledge,"  said  she.  I  agreed  to  do  that  if  she  would  sign 
her  name  to  it,  and  she  said  she  would,  requesting  me  to  put 
my  name  under  hers,  which  I  did.  Others  came  with  the  same 
request,  and  there  I  sat  writing  until  my  arm  and  wrist 
ached.  I  wrote  the  temperance  pledge  that  afternoon  in  one 
hundred  and  forty-three  albums,  to  each  of  which  a  young 
lady's  name  was  attached ;  and  while  I  was  in  Cincinnati 
I  wrote  it  in  the  albums  of  nearly  eight  hundred  young 
ladies.  Such,  in  fact,  was  the  demand  for  albums  that  they 
were  sought  for  in  every  quarter.  One  bookseller  told  me 
that  he  had  not  sold  albums  before  for  a  year,  but  that  week 
he  had  sold  forty  dollars'  worth  and  had  been  obliged  to  send 
to  New  York  for  another  supply.  Old  albums  which  had 
been  thrown  into  corners  were  brought  out.  Some  queer 
old  musty  ones,  which  had  belonged  to  their  mothers,  and 
which  had  been  stowed  away  for  years,  were  brought  to  me 
that  I  might  write  the  pledge  in  them,  to  which  in  every 
instance  was  attached  the  lady's  name,  mine  being  added  as 
a  witness. 

The  boys  also  took  it  up.     They  procured  little  account- 


TELL-TALE   STRAWS. 


545 


books,  and  I  think  I  wrote  a  thousand  pledges  in  account- 
books,  belonging  to  boys  and  girls.  Good  work  was  brought 
about  by  means  of  those  albums.  Sometimes  albums  are  put 
upon  the  draAving-room  table.  Now,  suppose  I  am  a  young 
man,  and  that  I  go  into  a  young  lady's  house,  as  young  men 
will  do,  who  have  business  among 
the  young  ladies.  Well,  I  am 
shown  into  the  drawing-room  and 
asked  to  wait  a  few  moments. 
The  young  lady  may  have  her 
hair  in  papers,  or  there  may  be 
a  few  alterations  in  her  dress  to 
attend  to.  I  am,  likely,  a  lover 
of  pictures,  and  I  look 
at  the  engravings.  Hav- 
ing looked  at  them,  I 
next  look  at  the  books. 
I  take  up  an  album. 
Now,  I  will  see  how 
matters  stand,  and  what 
are  addressed  to  my  Dulcinea's  eye- 
brows. I  turn  the  leaves  over,  and  by 
and  by  I  come  to  —  I  read  —  "We 
will  not  use  intoxicating  liquors  " 
hum  —  "or  provide  them  for  others" 
—  hum  —  signed  "Elizabeth  —  " 

I  should  understand  the  matter  at  once;  not  a  word  is  nec- 
essary, she  is  a  total  abstainer.  And  if  I  have  any  sincere 
regard  for  that  young  lady,  shall  I  dare  ask  her  after  that 
to  take  a  glass  of  wine?  If  I  am  a  young  man  of  honor 
(and  I  would  advise  the  young  ladies  to  have  nothing  to 
do  with  any  except  such),  I  would  no  more  ask  her  to  take 
a  glass  of  wine  than  I  would  think  of  addressing  to  her  insult- 


"  HUM  — 
SIGNED   ELIZABETH.' 


546  "I  WOULD  LIKE  TO  CATCH  THEM." 

ing  language  which  would  bring  the  burning  and  indignant 
blush  to  her  cheek.  Another  way  in  which  good  was  done  by 
those  albums  was  in  the  young  ladies  asking  the  young  gentle- 
men to  write  their  autographs  in  them.  Of  course  they  would 
say  "Yes,"  and  then  ask  where  they  should  write.  The  ladies 
were  sure  to  turn  over  the  pages  till  they  came  to  the  pledge, 
and  then  say,  "  Give  me  your  signature  here."  "  Do  you 
mean  here  ?  "  "  Certainly,"  is  the  reply.  Some  would,  and 
some  would  not ;  but,  to  show  you  what  may  be  done  in  this 
way,  one  bright-eyed  young  lady  in  Cincinnati  told  me  that 
she  had  obtained  the  names  of  sixteen  young  men.  She 
said,  "  I  don't  believe  I  could  have  induced  them  to  do  this 
unless  I  had  urged  them ;  arid  now  they  tell  me  that  some  of 
these  young  men  are  breaking  it."  She  was  a  beautiful  girl, 
and,  as  she  said  this,  she  drew  herself  up,  her  eyes  flashed 
fire,  and  she  proudly  said,  "  I  would  like  to  catch  them.  If 
a  young  man  who  had  signed  the  pledge  in  my  album  broke 
it,  I  would  never  speak  to  him  again."  And  as  I  looked  at 
her,  I  thought  any  young  man  would  be  sufficiently  punished 
if  he  saw  her  eyes  flashing  scorn  upon  him.  There  is  no  young 
man  who  can  bear  the  scorn  of  woman,  however  much  he 
may  affect  to  despise  it.  And,  young  ladies,  let  your  eyes 
flash  scorn  on  an  unmanly  deed  committed  by  any  young 
man  in  your  presence,  and  you  will  make  him  heartily 
ashamed. 

Adopt  right  principles  and  bring  your  influence  to  bear 
upon  the  young  men  of  your  acquaintance.  Women  can 
educate  not  only  the  child  at  the  mother's  knee,  but  they  can 
also  educate  young  men  and  bring  them  to  occupy  positions 
in  society  to  which  they  would  never  attain  without  that 
education.  A  lady  once  said  to  me  that  when  gentlemen 
were  together  they  talked  about  matters  that  required  some 
thought  and  knowledge  to  understand, —  their  conversation 


A  NEGRO  PREACHER'S  FAITH.  547 

was  often  profitable ;  but,  when  they  come  into  the  society  of 
ladies,  or  when  ladies  are  introduced  to  them,  they  drop, 
in  many  cases,  all  common-sense  conversation  and  descend 
to  miserable,  paltry,  contemptible  twaddle,  as  if  that  was  the 
only  conversation  fit  for  women.  Whose  fault  is  that  ?  It 
is  the  fault  of  the  ladies  themselves  in  a  very  great  degree. 
Let  these  men  understand  that,  to  please  you,  they  must 
cultivate,  not  their  mustaches,  not  their  whiskers,  not  that 
which  tends  merely  to  personal  appearance,  not  a  mere  knowl- 
edge of  dress ;  but  they  must  cultivate  the  mind  and  intellect 
which  God  has  given  them ;  and  until  they  do  that,  remain 
as  you  are,  and  let  them  know  that  they  are  not  fit  associates 
for  you.  Depend  upon  it,  that  if  you  follow  this  course  you 
will  lead  young  men  to  cultivate  the  mind,  to  take  care  of 
the  intellect,  and  you  will  hear  no  more  gossiping,  miserable 
twaddle  indulged  in  your  presence. 

Ladies,  will  you  help  us  ?  You  can,  by  your  sympathy ; 
you  say  you  cannot  do  much ;  but  do  what  you  can. 

A  colored  preacher,  who  was  inculcating  the  duty  of  obe- 
dience, said  that  if  God's  Word  told  him  to  jump  through 
a  wall  ten  feet  high  and  two  feet  thick,  he  would  not  turn  the 
book  upside  down  for  another  reading,  or  reason  about  the  im- 
possibility of  the  matter,  but  would  go  out  and  do  it,  because 
jumping  at  the  wall  was  his  work  ;  jumping  through  it,  God's. 
So  you  do  your  duty,  let  what  may  hinder.  The  Bible  en- 
courages you  in  the  spirit  of  self-denial.  We  have  much  to 
battle  against,  but  we  must  not  anchor  to  the  past.  Ours 
is  a  day  of  progress,  a  day  when  truth  is  bursting  through 
the  rubbish  of  ages,  and  making  itself  glorious.  Men  are 
everywhere  beginning  to  recognize  each  other  as  brethren ; 
wherever  a  wrong  is  perpetrated,  the  cry  of  indignation  and 
sympathy  rises  from  millions  of  voices.  Therefore,  do  all  you 
can  and  trust  God  for  the  results. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 


RANDOM   THOUGHTS  —  STORIES    AND    SKETCHES    FROM   BOTH 
SIDES   OF  LIFE  —  GLEANINGS   OF  A  LEISURE  HOUR. 

Religion  in  Everyday  Life  —  Silent  Influence  —  The  Sentry  of  Pompeii  — 
Faithful  Unto  Death  — Origin  of  the  Term  "  Teetotal "—  Dickey 
Turner  —  Death  Before  Bondage  —  Trading  in  Human  Lives  —  The 
Auction-block  —  A  Strong  Man's  Agony  —  Clinging  to  Respectability  — 
The  Traveller  and  His  Gold — Seeking  Shelter  —  The  Pioneer's  Hut  — 
An  Hour  of  Fear  and  Trembling  —  "  It 's  Time  to  Go  to  Bed  "  —  A  Re- 
markable Incident  —  Anecdote  of  a  Poor  Negro  —  "Come,  Cato,  Get 
Up" — A  Thrilling  Incident  —  A  Disabled  Steamer  —  Drifting  Toward 
the  Shore  —  Power  of  Christian  Example  —  A  Ship  in  Distress  —  The 
Alarm  Gun  —  Launching  the  Lifeboat  —  "  I  Will  Go  ;  Who  Will  Follow 
Me  "  —  Pulling  for  Life  —  Saved  at  Last  —  The  Moderate  Drinker  —  The 
Negro  and  His  Potato  Patch  —  A  Disastrous  Invasion  —  Old  Tom's 
Pigs — "Daddy  Moses"  —  Imparting  Strength  to  Others. 

ANY  of  us  are  too  much  in 
the  habit  of  looking  at  the 
duties  of  a  Christian  as  con- 
fined to  mere  religious  ordi- 
nances, and  forget,  or  lose 
sight  of,  the  fact  that  man  is 
a  social  being,  and  that  his 
religion  does  not  render  him  less  so. 
In  the  Bible,  duties,  commendations, 
promises  constantly  refer  to  the  so- 
cial life,  walking  with  God  and  be- 
fore God,  as  having  to  live  with  and 
before  men  in  all  the  necessary  associations  of  life,  family 
relations,  business  relations,  the  social  compact,  in  which  the 
Christian  is  not  to  be  a  mere  cipher,  but  to  bring  into  society 
a  new  element,  a  power,  leaven,  salt.  "  Ye  are  the  salt  of  the 
earth."  As  Christian  men,  we  are  bound  to  make  our  religion 

548 


FAITHFUL   UNTO   DEATH.  549 

the  active,  governing  principle  of  life,  carrying  it  with  us  in 
the  workshop,  in  the  daily  employment,  in  the  social  circle, 
in  our  politics,  wherever  we  are  called  in  the  providence  of 
God  to  move  or  act,  being  "  diligent  in  business,  fervent  in 
spirit,  serving  the  Lord." 

I  remember  hearing  that,  on  the  Lake  of  Geneva,  a  bell 
was  placed  on  the  surface  of  the  lake,  close  to  the  water's 
edge,  for  some  experiment ;  and  at  every  stroke  of  the  bell 
there  was  a  ripple  and  a  vibration  on  the  other  side  of  the 
lake.  Just  so  it  is  with  you.  There  is  a  moral  electricity 
connecting  heart  with  heart,  as  the  electric  wire  connects 
island  with  island.  You  cannot  make  a  motion  without 
exerting  an  influence.  It  is  not  the  noisiest  of  us,  nor  those 
who  are  the  most  prominent,  who  exert  the  most  influence; 
there  have  been  silent,  quiet  influences  that  have  told  more 
than  all  the  force  and  power  that  could  be  put  forth.  There 
are  young  men  among  my  readers  who  can  exert  a  mighty  in- 
fluence. It  is  not  only  an  influence  that  will  tell  now,  but 
will  tell  long  after  you  are  in  your  graves. 

Herculaneum  and  Pompeii  were  in  their  glory  many  cen- 
turies ago,  when  suddenly  a  heap  of  fire  and  ashes  came  down 
and  buried  them.  The  people  were  busy  at  their  various 
occupations,  —  some  were  indulging  in  pleasure,  some  count- 
ing their  gold,  —  but  one  stood  as  a  sentry;  and,  though 
the  rain  of  ashes  came  down,  he  stood  at  his  post.  Centuries 
after,  with  the  rest,  his  remains  were  exhumed,  and  found  in 
his  tomb  of  ashes,  still  standing  on  guard,  to  show  another 
race  that  there  was  constancy  of  purpose  and  firmness  in  duty 
even  in  Pompeii.  

ORIGIN   OF  THE  TERM   "TEETOTAL." 

I  saw  an  article  in  "  Notes  and  Queries  "  on  the  origin  of 
the  term  "teetotal,"  in  which  that  publication,  usually  so 


550  ORIGIN  OF  THE   WORD   TEETOTAL. 

correct,  falls  into  the  blunder,  first,  of  spelling  the  word  tea- 
total,  and  then  stating  that  the  name  was  given  to  the  society 
because  the  members  were  confined  to  tea  as  a  beverage. 
At  a  meeting  in  Preston,  at  which  Joseph  Livesey  presided, 
who  is  now  living,  a  man  named  Dickey  Turner  said,  "  Mr. 
Chairman,  I  finds  as  how  the  lads  gets  drunk  on  ale  and 
cider,  and  we  can't  keep  '  em  sober  unless  we  have  the  pledge 
total ;  yes,  Mr.  Chairman,  tee-tee-total."  "  Well  done,  Dick- 
ey," said  Mr.  Livesey,  "we  will  have  it  teetotal;"  and  the 
first  Total  Abstinence  Society  was  thus  formed.  It  is  on 
this  principle  of  total  abstinence  that  we  base  our  whole  ope- 
rations. 


Liberty  is  every  man's  inalienable  right ;  every  true  man 
desires  freedom.  History  seems  to  be  but  a  record  of  mighty 
struggles  of  the  oppressed  against  the  oppressor.  Who 
would  be  a  slave,  to  struggle  and  toil  for  another,  to  be  held 
in  bondage  to  another,  wholly  subject  to  the  will  of  another, 
with  no  freedom  of  action,  —  person  and  service  controlled  by 
another  ?  We  pity  the  abject  beings  reduced  to  slavery,  in 
the  power  of  an  owner.  How  the  flood  of  sympathy  pours 
forth  for  the  down-trodden  and  oppressed.  How  many  bat- 
tles have  been  fought  for  freedom  !  How  many  a  wild  spirit 
that  could  not  be  tamed  into  subjection  has  burst  the 
shackles,  and  met  death  rather  than  bondage.  Ah,  yes, 
physical  slavery  is  an  awful  thing.  The  Children  of  Israel 
were  slaves  in  Egypt  and  in  Babylon,  but  there  was  a 
difference,  —  in  Egypt  they  were  sold,  in  Babylon  they  had 
sold  themselves. 

A  man  may  be  bought  and  sold  in  the  market  and  yet  be 
a  freer  man  than  he  who  sells  him.  I  once  saw  a  man — • 
a  slave  —  sold  under  peculiar  circumstances.  A  trader 
wanted  to  buy  him,  but  a  benevolent  man  in  the  vicinity 


A  LIFE   OF  BONDAGE.  55} 

wished  to  keep  the  negro  with  his  wife  and  child,  who  stood 
trembling  a  few  yards  from  the  auction-block.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  look  of  agony  with  which  the  slave  gazed  on  the 
trader,  and  then  the  ray  of  hope  that  illumined  his  face  as  he 
looked  on  his  friend.  But  presently  the  trader  offered  a 
price  that  shut  out  hope,  and  the  negro's  friend  turned  on 
his  heel  and  departed.  Then  the  slave  folded  his  arms ;  I 
saw  the  twitching  of  the  fingers,  the  convulsive  working  of 
the  throat,  the  white  teeth  brought  on  the  lip  as  if  he  would 
press  the  blood  from  under  them ;  I  saw  the  eyelids  swollen 
with  unshed  tears;  I  saw  the  veins  stand  out  like  whip- 
cords upon  his  brow,  and  the  drops  like  beads  upon  his  fore- 
head, and  I  pitied  him.  It  was  a  strong  man's  agony.  But 
from  his  blood-shot  eyes,  as  he  looked  at  the  group  around 
him,  there  flashed  a  light  that  told  of  a  wild,  free  spirit,  —  a 
soul  that  could  not  be  enslaved ;  and  then,  black  as  he  was, 
bought  and  sold  as  he  was,  he  loomed  up  before  me  in  the 
glorious  attitude  of  a  free  man  compared  with  the  tobacco- 
chewing,  whiskey-drinking,  blaspheming  slaves  to  evil  pas- 
sions who  were  selling  a  brother  into  slavery. 

Oh,  the  slavery  of  the  man  who  has  lifted  up  his  hands  that 
the  wreath  might  be  twined  around  his  wrists  and  the  band 
o'f  flowers  around  his  brow,  and  who  finds  these  flowers 
twisted  around  rusty  iron  bands  eating  into  his  marrow  and 
burning  into  his  brain  till  his  garland  of  honor  has  become  a 
band  of  everlasting  infamy,  and  he  lifts  his  galled,  shackled 
hands  to  heaven  and  cries,  "  Who  shall  deliver  me  from  this 
horrible  bondage  ?  " 

How  pitiful  to  see  men  who  have  fallen  from  positions  of 
respectability  into  the  debasing  habit  of  drink!  Have  you 
ever  seen  such  a  man,  —  clinging  as  with  a  death-grip  to  the 
last  remnant  of  his  respectability, — going  through  your 


552 


BROKEN-DOWN  KESPECTABILITY. 


streets  in  a  faded  black  coat  well  inked  at  the  seams,  but- 
toned up  close  to  the  chin  to  hide  his  soiled  and  ragged  shirt, 
with,  perhaps,  an  old  rusty  pair  of  gloves,  and  a  couple  of 
inches  of  wrist  between  the  tops  of  the  gloves  and  the  cuffs  of 
the  once  fashionable  coat,  the  trousers 
positively  shining  with  old  age,  the 
last  penny  that  can  be  spared  from 
the  drink  expended  in  blacking  for 
the  miserable  boots,  the  hat  so 
dilapidated,  broken,  and  greasy, 
that  he  goes  into  mock  mourning 
and  hides  it  with  crape,  slinking 
miserably  about,  a  wretched  wreck? 


A  gentleman  said  to  me,  as  if 
it  was  a  discouragement,  "You 
are  in  a  minority."  Pure  and 
undefiled  religion  is  in  a  minor- 
ity. It  is  the  multitude  that 
are  swift  to  do  evil,  and  it  is 
the  few  that  are  righteous. 
Oh,  I  thank  God  for  the  belief 
I  have  that  the  righteous  are 
the  salt  of  the  .earth. 


A    WRETCHED   WRECK. 


The  world  expects  consistency,  and  when  it  does  not  find 
it,  to  all  the  hatred  and  bitterness  against  the  principle  is 
added  a  contempt  for  the  professor.  A  young  man,  an 
infidel,  was  travelling  in  the  western  part  of  the  United 
States,  with  a  very  large  sum  of  mone}r  upon  him,  which  he 
was  conveying  from  one  town  to  another  across  a  very  deso- 
late district.  He  was  in  hopes  of  reaching  a  certain  town 
before  night,  but  darkness  came  on  when  he  was  five  miles 


AX  HOUR  OF  DREADFUL  FOREBODING. 


553 


away.  He  saw  a  light,  and  went  to  a  log-hut  and  asked  if  he 
could  find  shelter  for  the  night.  A  woman  came  and  said 
she  guessed  he  could ;  that  her  old  man  was  away,  but  that 
if  he  would  put  up  his  horse  on  the  lee-side  of  the  cabin  he 
might  come  in.  He  came  in,  looked  about  him,  was  very 
suspicious,  thought  of  his  money.  "  What  a  place  to  rob  me 
in !  What  a  place  to  murder  me,  and  nobody  the  wiser  for 


A    SUSPICIOUS    PLACE    TO    PASS   THE    NIGHT. 


it! "  And  he  sat  there,  very  uneasy  till  the  man  of  the  house 
came  in,  a  rough-looking  woodsman,  a  pioneer  or  trapper. 
He  gave  the  stranger  a  rough  welcome,  but  looking,  as  these 
men  will,  furtively  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye,  he  seemed  to 
take  the  measure  of  the  young  chap,  and  then  talked  with 
him  and  gave  him  something  to  eat.  He  ate  in  fear  and 
trembling,  kept  his  hand  on  his  treasure,  very  nervous,  very 
anxious,  very  tremulous. 

The  man  said  to  him,  "I  will  show  you  where  you  can 
sleep,  sir."     The  young  man  rose,  timid  and  trembling;  he 


554  THE  PIONEER'S  BIBLE. 

did  not  like  the  looks  of  things.     "  What  a  place  this  is  to 

murder  a  man  in  !     Oh,  dear !     My  money  and  my  life  are  in 

danger."     So  life  came  and  sat  by  the  fire,  and  made  up  his 

mind  that  he  would  not  go  to  bed  that  night.     The  man 

urged  him  to  retire.      "It's  time  to  go  to  bed."      "Ah," 

thought  the  young  man,  "  time  for  you,  but  not  for  me."     He 

was  going  to  sit  up  all 

night.     "Very  well," 

young  man,"  said  the 

woodsman,     "  If    you 

choose  to  sit  here  all 

night,  I  shall  not,  and 

you    certainly    will 

have  no  objection  to 

my  doing  what  I  have 

been    accustomed    to 

do  for  many  years,  — 

reading  a  Psalm  out 

of  the  best  of  books, 

AN  UNEXPECTED  PROCEEDING. 

and   asking   Gods 

blessing  upon  us."  That  very  moment,  infidel  that  he  was, 
his  fears  were  gone ;  he  went  to  bed,  and  never  thought 
of  his  money.  And  he  was  so  impressed  with  what  he  had 
seen  that  he  wrote  a  letter  to  the  newspapers,  renouncing 
his  infidelity,  because  of  the  power  of  Christian  example 
upon  him  on  that  occasion.  No  amount  of  eloquence, 
talent,  or  profession  will  compensate  for  the  want  of  a  good 
example. 

Now,  we  will  take,  if  you  please,  the  Sabbath  question. 
There  are  those  who  are  in  favor  of  upholding  the  sanctity 
of  the  Sabbath  day.  But  some  of  these  men,  Christian  men, 
too,  seem  to  me  to  be  preparing, — or  you  will  allow  me,  if 


IT'S  SUNDAY   MO'NIN',   MASSA.' 


555 


you  please,  to  illustrate  what  I  mean  by  an  anecdote  of  a 
negro,  and  we  get  some  of  our  best  illustrations  from  homely 
life.  A  negro  was  hired  by  a  man  who  professed  to  be  a 
Christian,  as  an  assistant  on  his  farm.  This  man  was  one 
of  those  who  are  always  in  favor  of  keeping  the  Sabbath, 
except  when  work  of  necessity  demanded  that  there  should 
be  something  done,  and  then  he  always  quoted  Scripture. 

But  it  was  noticed  that  he 
was   always    preparing   for 
|pf    Sunday  work,  and  in  hay- 


"l   DON'T   WANT  TO   GET   UP." 

ing  time  he  would  alwa}rs  cut  down  a  lot  of  grass  on  Saturday 
night,  so  that  he  could  have  an  excuse  for  tossing  the  hay 
about  in  the  morning,  and  shaking  off  the  dew.  So  he 
called  this  negro  on  Sunday  morning. 

"Come,  Cato,  get  up." 

"I  don't  want  to  get  up.  Sunday  mo'nin',  massa;  always 
lay  a-bed  Sunday  mo'nin'." 

"But  get  up  and  get  your  breakfast." 

"Don't  want  no  breffus  on  Sunday  mo'nin',  massa;  rather 
lay  a-bed  than  breffus." 


556  A  CHRISTIAN  HERO. 

"  But  you  must  get  up  and  help  us  shake  the  dew  off  the 
grass." 

"  Don't  do  no  work  on  Sundays,  massa  ;  I  did  n't  hire  out 
to  work  Sundays." 

"  Oh,  but  this  is  a  work  of  necessity." 

"  Don't  see  dat,  massa,  at  all ;  don't  see  dat  it 's  a  work 
of  necessity." 

"  Well,  but  would  you  not  pull  your  ox  out  of  the  pit  on 
the  Sabbath  day?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  massa,  but  not  if  I  shoved  him  in  on  Saturday 
night." 

Do  you  know  I  am  very  much  afraid  there  is  a  good  deal 
of  this  shoving  in  on  Saturday  night  ?  You  speak  out 
bravely  against  the  running  of  Sunday  trains  for  pleasure 
excursions ;  you  oppose  the  general  use  of  cars  on  the  Sab- 
bath day,  and  yet  you  will  use  the  same  agency  to  go  from 
one  end  of  the  city  to  the  other,  and  even  into  the  country, 
to  hear  a  popular  preacher.  Now,  is  that  consistent? 


Who,  in  trouble  or  in  disaster,  is  the  hero  ?  It  is  the 
Christian  man,  and  there  his  example  shines  out  with  bright 
radiance.  On  the  steamer  "  Atlantic,"  plying  between  Nor- 
wich and  New  York,  whilst  tossed  about  that  long  night  on 
the  Sound,  with  the  steam-chest  exploded,  and  all  in  confu- 
sion, the  rudder  ropes  burnt  away,  and  the  vessel  drifting 
without  a  particle  of  sail  or  anything  to  help  her,  there  were 
sceptical  men,  ungodly  men,  and  men  of  business ;  wealthy 
men  were  there,  aud  some  of  them  were  offering  thousands 
and  thousands  of  dollars  to  anyone  who  would  save  their 
lives ;  they  gave  no  comfort  to  anyone.  But  there  was  one 
godly  man,  Dr.  Armstrong,  of  the  Board  of  Commissioners 
for  Foreign  Missions,  who  worked  with  all  his  might  as  long 
as  there  was  any  hope.  When  at  length  death  stared  them 


THE  SHIPWRECK. 


557 


in  the  face,  and  they  felt  that  they  must  drive  on  the  shore 
and  the  ship  must  go  to  pieces,  Dr.  Armstrong  stood  calm 
and  quiet,  not  like  a  Stoic,  but  with  the  strong  faith  of  the 
Christian.  And  they  came  to  him  for  comfort;  every  eye 
was  fixed  on  him ;  he  was  the  example ;  they  clung  to  him  in 
that  hour  of  danger;  and  when  he  said,  "Let  us  pray," 

women  sobbed 
and  strong  men 
bowed  the  m- 
selves,  while  the 
Christian  hero, 
who  had  been 
first  in  working 
for  safety  while 
hope  remained, 
lifted  up  his  voice 
in  prayer,  and 
then,  as  a  noble 
example  of  heroic 
faith  and  confi- 
dence, waited  the 
dread  result  with 
the  fortitude  and 
quietness  of  a 
Christian.  It  is  the  Christian  man  that  the  infidel  looks  to 
in  time  of  trouble  or  distress.  He  becomes  the  hero.  Why? 
By  the  power  and  force  of  his  example. 

Let  us  suppose  a  shipwreck ;  a  raging  sea,  a  mighty  hurri- 
cane ;  the  people  in  the  village  are  full  of  alarm ;  they  hear 
the  gun  that  tells  of  distress ;  they  go  down  to  the  beach ;  it 
is  a  terrible  night ;  they  see  the  blue  lights  that  reveal  the 
ship  in  distress,  with  men  clinging  to  the  masts  and  to  the 
shrouds,  and  hear  the  cry  of  passengers  upon  the  deck. 
34 


DEATH  STARED  THEM 


THE  FACE. 


558  TEACHING  A  DRUNKARD  HOW  TO  DRINK 

They  bring  down  the  lifeboat,  but  the  surf  is  so  terrific  that 
no  one  will  venture  out;  one  thinks  of  his  wife  and  children, 
another  of  his  old  mother,  another  thinks  of  his  brothers  and 
sisters.  There  is  the  boat,  there  is  the  wreck  ;  no  one  dares 
to  launch  that  boat,  there  is  so  much  danger.  Another  gun, 
another  blue  light ;  there,  there  !  It  is  too  much  for  them  ; 
one  young  man  steps  forward  and  leaps  into  the  boat.  "  I 
will  go,  who  will  follow  me  ?  "  At  that  moment  there  is  a 
press  forward,  and  every  man  is  ready  to  take  an  oar.  Who 
is  the  leader  of  those  men  ?  The  volunteer.  The  volunteer, 
by  the  tacit  consent  of  all,  stands  at  the  helm ;  he  orders 
them  to  pull  at  the  oars ;  his  eye  is  fixed  upon  the  wreck. 
He  is  the  master  of  the  expedition,  and  when  the  passengers 
are  all  safely  brought  ashore,  he,  the  hero  in  that  fearful 
strife  with  the  elements,  is  the  most  modest  man  of  the 
company. 

Just  so  with  the  Christian  man ;  he  is  the  hero  in  the 
struggle ;  he  is  the  modest  man  when  earthly  rewards  are  to 
be  showered  upon  those  who  have  performed  service  for  their 
fellow-men. 


You  say  you  set  a  good  example.  Do  you  set  a  good 
example  to  the  drunkard?  Some  persons  say  they  do, 
because  if  the  drunkard  drinks  just  as  they  do  he  will 
never  get  drunk ;  he  will  be  a  moderate  drinker.  Now,  we 
will  take  the  drunkard,  if  you  please.  Here  he  is.  "  Follow 
my  example."  "  Very  well,  sir."  "  I  take  it  twice  a  day." 
"Very  well,  sir."  "I  take  it  at  noon,  and  I  take  it  at  my 
dinner  at  four  or  five  o'clock."  "  Very  well,  sir."  "Now 
follow  my  example."  "  Yes,  sir."  "You  drink  just  when  1 
do,  and  only  when  I  do."  "Yes,  sir."  "Well,  now,  we 
come  together  at  twelve  to  take  the  first  glass,  you  and  I." 
"Yes,  sir."  "Pour  it  out;  I  drink  it;  you  drink  it."  The 


DICK'S  GARDEN  AND  TOM'S  PIGS.  559 

moderate  drinker  has  drunk  it,  and  this  poor  man  has  drunk 
it.  They  go  away.  You  go  to  your  business ;  you  have  no 
thoughts  about  the  wine  or  drink,  none  at  all.  You  attend 
to  your  business  as  usual. 

Four  o'clock  comes.  You  have  been  spending  your  time 
as  usual.  What  has  he  been  doing  ?  He  has  been  getting 
nervous.  He  could  not  help  it.  He  feels  strange  sensa- 
tions; he  cannot  help  them.  Those  sensations  have  grown 
into  a  longing ;  he  cannot  help  it.  He  has  been  thinking 
there  never  was  such  a  long  afternoon  ;  he  has  been  looking 
at  his  watch,  —  if  he  has  one  ;  he  is  irritable  ;  he  is  going  to 
have  a  certain  gratification  when  four  o'clock  comes.  You 
quietly  come  to  your  glass.  There  stands  the  nervous  man ; 
he  looks  at  his  glass ;  his  eyes  gleam  like  those  of  a  tiger  that 
has  once  tasted  blood  and  sees  it  again.  You  take  your 
liquor,  sip  it  quietly;  he  takes  his,  clutches  it,  looks  at 
you,  looks  around  wildly,  drinks  it  at  a  draught,  and  before 
you  are  ready  to  go  to  bed  he  is  drunk ;  he  could  not  help 
it;  to  save  his  life  he  could  not  help  it.  Why?  Because  his 
system  is  diseased,  and  it  is  utterly  impossible  for  that  man  to 
drink  moderately. 


A  negro  named  Dick  had  a  piece  of  land  in  which  he  had 
planted  yams  and  sweet  potatoes.  Another  negro,  named 
Tom,  had  a  sow  and  nine  pigs,  and  when  Dick  went  to  get 
his  potatoes  one  night,  after  his  hard  day's  work,  he  found 
them  all  rooted  np  and  the  garden  destroyed.  He  was  in  a 
terrible  rage.  He  said :  "  Dere  's  dat  old  Uncle  Tom's  sow 
and  de  pickaninnies  hab  bin  in  my  gar'n  an'  eat  up  all  my 
'taters.  Now  I'll  hab  satisfaction.  I'll  make  him  pay  de 
damage,  dat's  what  I'll  do."  Well,  Moses  was  a  Christian 
patriarch  among  his  fellows  in  the  settlement,  and  he  said 
to  Dick,  — "Dick,  what's  de  matter?" 


560       •  CHRISTIANITY,   PIGS,   AND   'TATERS. 

"Matter?  matter  'nuff.  Dere 's  old  Tom's  sow  and 
pigs  has  bin  an'  root  up  all  my  'taters,  and  now  I'll 
make  old  Tom  pay  de  damage.  I'll  seize  on  de  pigs,  I'll 
seize  on  de  sow,  I'll  seize  eberyting,  —  I '11  make  him  pay 
de  damage." 

"Well,"   says  Moses,   "stop    a  minute,  Dick;  you  know 

T  o  m  's      an      old 
man." 

"Well,  I  know 
he  is.  Dat's  got 
nottin'  to  do  wid  his 
pigs." 

"Yes,  but  you 
know  he 's  not  got 
a  bit  of  ground,  such 
as  you  have,  and  he 
'pends  on  dat  sow 
and  dem  pigs  for  his 
winter's  store." 

"  Dat  makes  n  o 
difference  to  me. 
What  if  he  does  ?  he 
ought  to  keep  his 
pigs  at  home,  not 
fat  de  old  sow  in 
I  '11  make  him  pay  de  damage,  dat 's  what 


DADDY   MOSES   AND   DICK. 


my   gar  n. 

I'll  do." 

"  Dick,  stop  a  minute.     You  perfess  to  be  a  Christian?" 
"  Well,  I  'specs  I  is  a  Christian,  I  'specs  I  is.     But  what 's 

dat  got  to  do  wid  my  'taters?     I'll  make  him  pay  de  damage, 

dat 's  what  I '11  do." 

"  Ah,  but,  Dick,  you  perfess  to  love  de  Lord  Jesus  ?  " 

"  Well,  Moses,  I  hopes  I  does  ;  I  hopes  I  does.     But,  daddy 


SELF-DENIAL.  561 

Moses,  dat  's  nottin'  to  do  wid  de  pigs  rootin'  up  my  'taters. 
You  know  I  must  Lab  satisfaction  ;  I  must  make  him  pay  de 
damage,  dat 's  what  I  must  do." 

"  Now,  Dick,  I  'm  going  to  ask  you  one  oder  question, 
and  den  I'll  neber  ask  you  anoder.  Jess  you  answer  dat, 
and  den  I  '11  neber  ask  you  anoder.  Hab  you  eber  paid  de 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  all  de  damage  dat  you  hab  done  to  him?" 

"  No,  I  don't  tink  I  hab.  Pay  Him,  Daddy  Moses  !  why,  if 
I  lib  as  long  as  Medusla,  work  ebery  day,  and  not  be  sick 
once,  I  '11  neber  be  able  to  pay  Him  one  stiver.  I  tell  you 
what,  Daddy  Moses,  I  did  n't  like  to  gib  up  all  my  yams  and 
'taters  to  old  Tom  for  his  sake,  but  for  de  Lord  Jesus  Christ's 
,  sake,  I  can.  Now  you  go  and  tell  Uncle  Tom  dat  if  I  get 
anoder  gar'n  an'  get  'taters  in,  he  may  let  all  de  pigs  run  in 
as  much  as  he  pleases,  and  I'll  neber  ask  no  damage." 

That  is  the  principle.  And  I  appeal  to  Christian. men,  and 
ask  them,  for  His  sake,  to  be  willing  to  make  some  sacrifice, 
to  practise  some  self-denial  in  stooping  to  the  weaknesses  of 
those  who  are  erring,  knowing  that  you  are  not  made  a  par- 
taker of  their  weaknesses,  for  the  strongest  man,  morally 
speaking,  that  ever  lived  has  been  the  man  who  has  imparted 
the  most  strength  to  his  weaker  brother. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 


MODERATION  —  THE  CUP   OF   DEATH  —  THE   HUMOROUS   SIDE 
OF   DRUNKENNESS  —  THE  DARK   SIDE. 

A  Minister's  Dangerous  Advice  — Men  Who  "  Can't  Stand  It"— Story  of 
the  Church  Member  Who  Went  After  a  Load  of  Goods  —  Taking  a  "  Nip  " 
to  Keep  Out  the  Cold  —  Another  "Nip"  —  A  Ludicrous  Tableau  — 
Listening  to  an  Account  of  a  Surgical  Operation  —  I  Am  Compelled  to 
Leave  the  Room —  An  Actor's  Foolish  Wish  —  Brainless  Young  Ladies  — 
A  Story  for  the  Benefit  of  Young  Women  —  An  Unwilling  Bride- 
groom—  The  Humorous  Side  of  Drunkenness  —  Ludicrous  Incidents 
-"Toodles"  —"That's  the  Way  I  Always  Come  Down  Stairs" 
—  Anecdote  of  Bishop  Clarke  —  The  Man  Who  Swallowed  the  Spool 
of  Silk— "Wife!  Wife!  I'm  All  Unravelling "— A  Good  Story  - 
An  Exceedingly  Comical  Situation  —  The  Dark  Side  —  A  Bridegrooir 
Sentenced  to  be  Hanged  —  False  Arguments. 


NE  source  of  embarrassment  I 
have  in  continuously  speaking 
on  the  subject  of  temperance 
is  that  my  range  of  argument 
is  very  limited.  The  physio- 
logical aspects  of  the  move- 
ment are  discussed  by  scien- 
tists, physiologists,  and  physicians ;  and 
the  scriptural  argument  enforced  by 
biblical  scholars.  I  am  neither  a  bibli- 
cal scholar  nor  a  physiologist;  there- 
fore I  must  take  the  question  just  as  it  is,  and  occupy  the 
ground  with  regard  to  which  there  is  no  dispute,  and  in  which 
little  argument  is  needed.  THE  DISEASE;  THE  CAUSE;  and 
THE  REMEDY.  The  disease,  drunkenness  ;  the  cause,  drink  ; 
the  remedy,  abstinence  from  drink ;  and  that  is  so  simple,  it 
562 


DANGEROUS  ADVICE.  553 

needs  no  argument  whatever  to  prove  it.  If  we  could  only 
induce  the  people  to  adopt  the  principle  of  TOTAL  ABSTI- 
NENCE, the  evils  of  drunkenness  would  be  rolled  back  from 
the  land  forever.  All  that  can  be  said  on  this  subject  must 
be  very  much  like  taking  the  same  pieces  of  colored  glass 
and  the  same  beads  in  the  same  kaleidoscope,  and  shaking 
them  up  occasionally  to  present  a  little  different  appearance 
with  the  same  materials. 

A  person  once  said  to  me  :  "  Well,  well,  it 's  all  right  for 
you  to  talk  about  drunkenness,  but  why  don't  you  talk  about 
some  other  evil?  Is  intoxication  the  worst  sin  in  the  world? 
Is  there  no  other  evil  in  the  world  but  drunkenness?  "  Why, 
we  battle  this  evil  because  drunkenness  solidifies  and  crys- 
talizes  and  makes  chronic  every  evil  passion  of  depraved 
human  nature.  It  is  the  promoter  of  all  that  is  evil,  vile, 
and  abominable. 

A  minister  once  said  to  his  young  men :  "  Temperance  is 
a  more  manly  virtue  than  total  abstinence,"  meaning,  by 
temperance,  moderation.  This  is  a  fallacy  that  is  deceiving 
3roung  men.  A  person  once  put  the  same  idea  before  me  in 
another  way.  He  said : 

"I  hate  a  drunkard.     I  think  a  drunkard  is  a  beast." 

"  Then,"  I  said,  "  I  hope  you  are  a  teetotaler." 

"  Ah,  no,  no ;  I  hate  your  teetotalism  as  bad  as  I  hate 
excess." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  excess  is  beastly,  and  teetotalism  is  cowardly." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"  I  stand  on  the  manly  principle  of  moderation.  I  say  to 
young  men:  4  Now,  follow  my  example.  Use  this  article  in 
moderation ;  use  it  as  not  abusing  it.  Exercise  your  self- 
denial,  self-control,  and  self-government ;  and  by  the  exercise 
of  these  qualities  you  develop  your  highest  and  noblest  man- 


564  WHAT   IS   EXCESS? 

hood.'  Don't  you  see  ?  Now,  what  do  you  develop  by 
teetotalism  ?  Nothing  but  a  miserable  spirit  of  cowardice. 
You  say,  '  There  is  an  article ;  run ! '  I  say,  '  There  is  an 
article  ;  meet  it  like  a  man,  and  exercise  self-denial,  self-con- 
trol, and  self-government.'  Don't  you  see  that  a  man  grows 
strong  by  resistance  ?  You  make  a  man  flabby  ;  I  make  him 
firm.  Now  I  stand  between  the  two  extremes ;  teetotalism, 
which  is  cowardly,  and  excess,  which  is  beastly,  —  upon  the 
manly  position  of  moderation,  exercising  my  self-denial, 
self-control,  and  self-government,  thereby  developing  my 
highest  and  noblest  manhood." 

"  Yes,  very  nicely  put,"  I  said.     "  What  is  excess  ?  " 

"  Drinking  too  much." 

"  What  is  drinking  too  much?  " 

"  Excess." 

"  I  know  it  is ;  but  what  I  mean  to  ask  you  is  a  pretty 
plain  question.  Would  six  tumblers  of  whiskey-toddy  in  a 
day  be  excess  for  you?" 

"  For  me  ?     Six  ?     Well,  no,  not  if  I  could  stand  it." 

Now,  according  to  that  man's  theory,  if  a  man  drinks  as 
much  as  he  can  hold,  and  "  stands  it,"  that  man  is  develop- 
ing his  highest  and  noblest  manhood,  is  he  not?  If  he  drinks 
two  quarts  of  whiskey  in  a  day  and  "  stands  it,"  he  is  exer- 
cising self-denial,  self-control,  and  self-government  in  the 
moderate  use  of  drink ;  and  if  he  drinks  two  glasses  and  does 
not  "stand  it,"  but  staggers  under  it,  there  is  a  frightful 
illustration  of  the  utter  want  of  self-denial,  self-control,  and 
self-government  in  the  excessive  use  of  intoxicating  liquors. 
Now,  what  is  excess?  In  the  common  understanding  of  that 
term,  simply  and  solely  the  inability  of  a  man  to  "  stand  it." 
If  he  "  stands  it,"  he  is  not  drunk ;  if  he  does  not  "  stand  it," 
he  is.  You  cannot  judge  of  a  man's  excess  by  the  quantity 
he  drinks ;  it  is  by  the  effect  of  that  quantity  on  the  brain 


TWO  NIPS   TOO   MUCH.  565 

and  nervous  system.  There  are  some  men  who  can  drink 
moderately,  and  there  are  some  who  CANNOT.  There  are 
some  men  who  can  "stand  it,"  and  there  are  some  men  who 
cannot;  and  we  condemn  the  latter  because  they  are  not 
able  to  "stand  it." 

A  man  whom  I  knew  joined  the  church  by  profession  of 
faith.  Knowing  his  antecedents,  I  asked  him  to  sign  the 
pledge,  and  he  said,  "  Well,  Mr.  Gough,  I  would  in  a  minute 
if  I  were  not  a  Christian."  I  said,  "  Why  should  that  hinder 
you  ?  "  "  Because  I  need  no  pledges.  I  am  restrained  and 
governed  by  the  grace  of  God.  I  have  come  out  from  my 
young  companions.  I  was  converted  in  the  last  revival,  and 
I  want  to  show  them  that  without  any  pledges  or  temper- 
ance societies,  or  mere  human  agency,  the  grace  of  God  is 
able  to  keep  me." 

A  very  good  idea  as  far  as  it  meets  the  case,  but  the  grace 
of  God  does  not  prevent  physical  effects  from  physical  causes. 
If  I  have  any  grace  in  my  heart,  it  prompts  me  to  pray, 
"  Lead  me  not  into  temptation ; "  and  if,  for  the  trial  of  my 
faith  and  patience,  he  sees  fit  that  I  shall  be  tempted,  there  is 
a  promise  that  I  shall  not  be  tempted  more  than  I  am  able  to 
bear,  and  that  in  every  temptation  there  shall  be  a  way  of 
escape.  But  if  I  think  I  have  so  much  grace  that  I  can  vol- 
untarily walk  into  temptation,  and  trust  to  that  grace  to  save 
me  from  falling,  I  shut  myself  out  of  the  pale  of  that  prom- 
ise, and  render  it  exceedingly  doubtful  if  I  have  any  grace 
at  all. 

To  return  to  the  case  in  hand.  This  man  kept  a  store  in 
a  small  village.  One  drizzly  November  afternoon  he  drove  a 
one-horse  wagon  seven  miles,  for  a  load  of  goods.  When  he 
arrived  at  his  destination  he  took  a  glass  of  brandy-and-water, 
to  keep  out  the  cold,  —  medicinally.  When  he  had  loaded 
his  wagon  he  took  another  drink,  in  view  of  the  drizzly  ride 


566 


A  SORRY  PLIGHT. 


back.  Arrived  at  the  square  in  the  village,  he  descended 
from  his  wagon,  backed  himself  against  the  thills,  and  there 
he  stood.  Some  one  came  up  to  him,  and  said,  "Why, 
what's  the  matter  with  you?"  Rubbing  his  head,  till  his 
hat  fell  off  into  the  road,  he  said,  "I  —  don't  —  know." 
Another  coming  up,  said,  "  But  I  do,  though  ;  you  're  drunk." 
And  so  he  was,  —  a  church-member  babbling,  maudlin,  silly, 

staggering  drunk;  right  in 
the  square  of  the  village. 

Now  there  were  a  num- 
ber of  young  men  who  did 
not  like  that  revival,  and 
this  was  what  some  people 
call  "nuts"  for  them.  "A 
member  of  the  church !  oh, 
oh !  Why,  that 's  one  of  the 
new  converts.  He  spoke  the 
other  night  at  the  prayer- 
meeting.  Set  'im  up  !  Oh, 
oh ! "  Now  here  was  a 
church  disgraced  through 
an  individual  m  e  m  b  e  r. 
What  did  the  church  do? 
They  disciplined  him. 
They  dealt  with  him.  They 

were  obliged  to  deal  with  him.  And  the  dealing  with  him 
so  broke  his  heart,  that  he  gave  up  his  business  and  worked 
on  a  farm  for  about  eighteen  months.  Never  did  I  know  a 
man  so  completely  broken  down  as  he  was,  by  the  disgrace  of 
that  church  discipline  in  this  small  village.  Now  for  what 
did  the  church  discipline  him  ?  They  disciplined  him  solely 
because  he  could  not  stand  two  glasses  of  brandy  and  water. 
If  he  had  stood  it,  they  would  not  have  touched  him.  If  he 


i — DON'T  —  KNOW." 


MEN  WHO   "CAN'T  STAND  IT.-' 

had  drank  twenty  glasses  and  stood  it,  they  would  not  have 
dealt  with  him.  They  disciplined  him  for  what  he  could 
not  help.  He  could  help  drinking,  but  he  could  not  help  the 
effect  after  he  had  drank,  and  they  disciplined  him  for  that. 

I  knew  men  in  that  church  who  drank  two  glasses  every 
day  of  their  lives,  and  I  should  like  to  see  the  church  under- 
take to  deal  with  them.  Would  not  there  be  a  row?  "Any- 
body see  me  the  worse  for  drink  ?  I  should  like  them  to  say 
so.  I  challenge  them  to  say  so.  I  should  like  to  see  the 
church  discipline  me!"  Now  the  church  does  not  touch 
these  men,  because  they  can  "  stand  it "  ;  but  the  poor  fellow 
who  cannot  stand  it  is  disciplined.  Many  a  man  has  been 
sentenced  to  prison  for  drunkenness  by  a  judge  who  drank 
more  liquor  than  he  did.  Many  a  church-member  has  been 
disciplined  for  drunkenness  who  drank  less  in  quantity  than 
those  who  condemned  him.  You  may  consider  me  radical. 
I  like  to  be  radical,  because  "radical"  means  "going  to  the 
root  of  things ;  "  and  I  hold  this  (I  am  not  judging  for  your 
churches),  that  that  church  had  no  right  to  discipline  that 
man  for  drunkenness  if  they  did  not  discipline  the  other 
church-members  for  drinking.  The  drinking  the  man  can 
help,  the  effect  he  cannot  help. 

But,  after  all,  the  moderate  drinker  despises  and  holds  in 
contempt  the  man  who  cannot  drink  moderately.  You  do 
not  like  the  term  "  cannot."  I  do  not  say,  who  cannot  let  it 
alone  altogether,  for  every  man  who  is  not  utterly  broken  in 
will  by  his  dissipation,  can  abstain ;  but  some  cannot  drink 
moderately.  You  say  one  man  can  do  what  another  can. 
Stop,  my  friend,  let  me  illustrate  the  contrary.  A  gentleman 
once  informed  me  that  he  took  great  interest  in  surgical  ope- 
rations, and  that  to  witness  an  amputation  or  a  dissection  was 
a  positive  enjoyment.  Very  well,  let  him  take  his  enjoyment. 
Ask  me  to  witness  a  surgical  operation.  I  cannot  do  it.  At 


568  AN  ACTOR'S   FOOLISH   WISH. 

the  first  sight  of  the  instruments,  the  glittering  steel  of  the 
knife,  I  should  feel  agitated;  at  the  first  incision,  I  should 
grow  faint ;  at  the  sight  of  blood,  I  should  drop.  I  remem- 
ber once,  in  the  dining-room  of  Professor  Miller  of  Edinburgh, 
after  the  ladies  had  retired,  the  conversation  among  the  gen- 
tlemen turned  on  the  profession  of  surgery,  and  the  Professor 
began  a  description  of  a  very  difficult  operation  he  had 
performed,  when  I  said,  "  Doctor,  please  excuse  me,  but 
I  must  leave  the  room ; "  and  I  did.  Now  will  you  despise 
me,  and  hold  me  in  contempt,  and  call  me  weak-minded, 
because  I  could  not  listen  to  his  story  ?  The  mind,  the  will, 
the  intellect,  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  Call  it  a  physical 
infirmity,  if  you  will ;  for  that  I  am  not  to  blame,  though  it 
may  be,  in  one  sense,  a  misfortune. 

Again,  I  say,  it  is  impossible  for  some  men  to  drink  in 
moderation.  Is  that  a  man's  fault  ?  Why  not  stop  after  the 
first  glass  ?  I  give  you  the  following  fact. 

A  gentleman  belonging  to  the  theatrical  profession  said 
to  me :  "  Mr.  Gough,  I  would  give  ten  thousand  dollars  if  I 
could  drink.  You  don't  know  what  I  would  give  if  I  was  a 
splendid  drinker."  I  said,  "I  don't  understand  you."  He 
replied,  "  Now  there  is  Colonel  So-and-So  [naming  him]  ;  he 
will  drink  a  glass  of  wine  with  one,  and  a  glass  of  wine  with 
another,  and  take  a  bottle  or  a  bottle  and  a  half  of  wine  at 
the  dinner-table,  and  there  is  no  perceptible  difference  in 
him ;  I  meet  him  next  morning  as  fresh  as  a  daisy,  just  as  if 
he  had  come  out  of  a  bath.  Now  if  I  take  one  glass  of 
sherry  with  my  fish,  I  want  another."  I  said,  "Why  don't 
you  stop  at  the  one  glass?"  "Ah,  there's  the  rub.  That 
one  glass  has  gone  to  my  head,  that  is,  touched  my  brain  ; 
slightly,  to  be  sure,  but  enough  to  weaken  my  will.  I  never 
go  to  a  dinner-party  but  with  a  determination  that  I  will 
drink  but  one  glass.  I  say  to  my  wife,  '  I  will  only  take  one 


MEN  WITHOUT  CONSCIENCE.  559 

glass;'  but  she  says,  4My  dear,  I  know  better.'  And  she 
says  truly,  because  that  one  glass,  when  it  has  touched  my 
brain,  has  weakened  the  power  of  my  will;  it  has  warped  my 
judgment ;  it  has  affected  my  self-control ;  it  has  stimulated 
my  perception,  while  it  has  destroyed  its  accuracy.  I  take 
another  glass,  and  another;  and  I  am  going  to  the  Devil." 
I  said,  "Why  don't  you  break  it  off  altogether?'  "Ah,"  he 
said,  "  I  have  not  moral  courage  enough  to  say  to  my  friends, 
'I  cannot  drink  moderately.'  Gentlemen  will  say  to  me,  'I 
never  saw  "Master  Walter"  better  performed,  and  your 
good  lady's  "Julia"  was  perfection  last  night.  Take  a 
bottle  of  wine  with  us.'  These  are  my  patrons,  and  I  cannot 
turn  upon  them  and  say,  'No,'  and  reject  every  offer  of 
friendship.  I  have  not  courage  to  tell  them  I  cannot  drink ; 
there  I  am  weak,  so  I  say  to  them,  4 1  will  just  take  one 
glass,'  and  there  it  is,  and  I  am  going  to  my  ruin."  Now 
these  are  the  men,  nervously  organized,  who  cannot  drink 
moderately.  Therefore  total  abstinence  is  their  only  safe- 
guard. They  must  adopt  it. 

But  one  reason  why  we  find  it  difficult  to  move  the  people 
is  their  indifference  to  the  evils  of  drunkenness.  Go  with 
any  of  your  city  missionaries,  and  you  will  see  scenes  that 
will  harrow  your  inmost  soul  and  make  your  hair  stand  on 
end,  but  these  things  are  hidden  from  the  vast  majority  of 
the  people.  Simple  intoxication  is  thought  nothing  of, — 
that  is,  getting  drunk  "once  in  a  while,"  "occasionally," 
"just  a  little  over  the  mark,"  and  the  like.  Did  you  ever 
hear  a  man  say,  "I  am  not  a  thief;  I  know  I  steal  occa- 
sionally, but  I  am  not  a  thief;  I  am  not  a  liar;  I  '11  knock  a 
man  down  who  calls  me  a  liar,  for  I  tell  a  lie  only  once  in  a 
while"?  Yet  you  may  hear  a  man  say,  "I  am  not  a  drunk- 
ard ;  any  man  who  calls  me  a  drunkard  insults  me,  yet  I  do 
get  4  tight,'  '  three  sheets  in  the  wind,'  4  a  brick  in  my  hat,' 


570  SILLY  YOUNG  WOMEN. 

4 mops  and  brooms'  occasionally,  but  I  am  not  a  drunkard." 
Now  if  a  man  steals  once,  he  is  a  thief ;  if  he  lies  once  he  is 
a  liar;  but  we  do  not  consider  that  a  man  is  a  drunkard 
until  he  is  drunk  two  thirds  of  his  time.  Habitual  drunken- 
ness we  consider  something  terrible  ;  occasional  intoxication, 
nothing.  Why,  we  laugh  at  it.  We  make  sport  of  it. 

I  once  heard  some  young  ladies  talk  in  a  railway  train,  - 
and  you  know  young  ladies  often  use  the  superlatives.  One 
said ;  "  Oh,  it  was  perfectly  splendid.  I  never  laughed  so 
much  in  all  my  life.  Oh,  it  was  such  fun.  We  were  going 
out  for  a  sleigh-ride  and  were  to  have  a  supper  and  dance  at 
the  hotel ;  and  when  we  reached  there,  some  of  those  young 
men  went  to  the  bar  and  began  to  cut  up.  1  never  saw 
such  cuttings  up.  I  laughed,  well  I  never  laughed  so  much 
in  all  my  life ;  and  the  more  they  went  to  the  bar,  the  more 
they  cut  up.  And  when  we  were  all  ready  to  dance,  some 
of  the  young  gentlemen  were  in  such  a  state  that  they  could 
not  stand  up  with  their  partners,  and  I  danced  with  a  lady 
friend.  Laugh!  I  thought  I  should  have  laughed  until  I 
died.  And  when  we  were  all  ready  to  start  for  home,  some 
of  the  young  men  were  in  such  a  state  that  the  landlord  had 
put  them  to  bed,  and  we  came  home  without  them.  It  was 
such  fun.  Ha,  ha ! "  What !  Young  men  so  drunk  that 
they  could  not  be  polite  to  ladies,  and  could  not  go  home 
with  them !  And  that  is  fun  !  FUN  ! 

Let  me  say  a  word  or  two  to  the  ladies,  for  their  influence 
is  of  great  importance  in  temperance  work.  I  do  not  pre- 
tend to  say  that  I  know  the  reason  why  the  ladies  do  not 
wish  to  get  rid  of  the  drinking  customs  of  society,  but  I  will 
tell  you  a  story  that  was  told  to  me.  A  clergyman  in  this 
country  was  called  upon  to  marry  a  couple,  and  the  man  was 
so  very  drunk  that  the  clergyman  said:  "I  will  have  nothing 
to  do  with  you.  You  must  come  when  you  are  sober.  Ycu 


A  HARD  CASE. 


571 


are  miserably  drunk  and  not  in  a  fit  state  to  be  married." 
He  went  home,  and  in  about  a  week  afterwards  came  again 
as  drunk  as  ever,  or  a  little  worse.  "  Why,"  said  the  clergy- 
man, "I  told  you  before  that  I  would  not  marry  you  in 
such  a  state  as  this.  Go  away  with  you,  and  come  again 
when  you  are  in  a  proper  condition."  About  a  week  after 


that,  the  clergy- 
man met  the  girl 
in  the  street  and 
said  to  her, 
"  Xoung  worn  an, 
you  should  not 
bring  that  man 


ing  state  to  be 
married."  "Lor' 
sir,"  said  she, 
"he  won't  come 
when  he 's  so- 
ber!" I  do  not 
pretend  to  say, 


in  such  a  shock-  AN  UNWILLING  BRIDEGROOM,  you  know,  that 
that  is  the  reason,  but  such  a  thing  as  that  looks  a  little 
suspicious. 

Young  men,  I  appeal  to  you ;  what  is  it  for  a  man  to  get 
drunk?  Come  with  me  to  the  Yosemite  Valley  in  California. 
Yonder  stands  that  mighty  rock,  El  Capitan,  a  mile  away. 
It  seems  in  this  clear,  dry  atmosphere  as  if  you  might  strike 
it  with  a  stone.  Approach  it.  Nearer  yet.  How  it  looms 
up  before  you !  How  it  grows  in  majesty  and  grandeur ! 
See  yon  shrub.  Shrub?  That  is  a  tree  one  hundred  and 


572  THE    YOSEMITE   VALLEY. 

fifty  feet  in  height  and  four  feet  in  diameter.  Nearer  yet ; 
still  nearer.  See  that  dent  in  the  face  of  the  rock.  Dent? 
It  is  a  fissure  seventy-five  feet  deep.  Nearer,  and  yet  still 
nearer.  Now  look  up,  up,  till  your  eye  rests  on  the  summit, 
three  thousand  six  hundred  feet  above  you.  Anchored  in 
the  valley  beneath,  seared  and  seamed  with  the  storms  of 
centuries,  there  it  stands,  two-thirds  of  a  mile  right  up,  a 
solid  rock  !  And  as  your  lips  quiver,  your  nerves  thrill, 
your  eyes  fill  with  tears,  amid  the  grandeur,  beauty,  and 
sublimity  of  the  scene,  you  are  awe-struck,  and  remember 
how  frail  you  are.  "The  inhabitants  of  the  earth  are  as 
grasshoppers." 

Look  to  the  right  of  you;  see  that  wonderful  South  Dome; 
and  there  is  the  Cloud's  Rest  rising  six  thousand  feet  from  the 
valley  beneath,  over  a  mile,  rugged  and  grand,  sublime,  inac- 
cessible. Turn  again.  There  are  the  Three  Brothers,  four 
thousand  two  hundred  feet  in  height ;  and  there  the  Cathe- 
dral Rocks,  three  thousand  eight  hundred  feet  high  ;  there 
also  stand  the  Sentinel  Dome  and  Sentinel  Rocks,  mighty  and 
magnificent,  two  thousand  eight  hundred  feet  high.  Look 
yonder  and  see  the  great  Yosemite  Falls  dashing  over  yon 
precipice,  striking  the  rock  at  the  depth  of  one  thousand  six 
hundred  feet,  then  bounding  four  hundred  feet  further,  and 
then  down  six  hundred  feet  more,  like  showers  of  sky-rockets 
exploding  as  they  fall.  Hear  them  roar  and  dash.  Stand 
within  the  spray,  if  you  will,  right  in  the  very  arc  of  the 
double  rainbow  as  the  water  falls  two  thousand  six  hundred 
feet,  half  a  mile  down.  How  grand,  how  sublime,  how  mag- 
nificent !  And  then  you  realize  that  the  inhabitants  of  the 
earth  are  but  "  as  the  small  dust  of  the  balance."  And  while 
you  are  absorbed,  drinking  in  the  beauty  and  awed  by  the 
sublimity,  there  comes  to  you  this  passage  of  Holy  Writ : 
"  God  created  man  in  his  own  image,  in  the  image  of  God 


MAN  A   LIVING  SOUL.  573 

created  he  him."  "  He  breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath 
of  life,"  and  made  him  (not  gave  him,  but  made  him)  "a 
living  soul." 

I,  so  small,  so  weak,  so  feeble,  unable  to  climb  fifty  feet 
upon  the  face  of  this  rock,  —  yet  that  is  a  dead  rock,  and  I 
am  a  living  soul.  This  shall  decay ;  I  shall  live,  for  I  an/ 
a  man.  I  have  a  mind  capable  of  understanding  in  some 
degree  the  greatness  of  the  Almighty ;  a  reason  able  to 
worship  him  intelligently,  and  a  heart  enabling  me  to  love 
him.  I  am  a  living  man,  having  within  me  the  fire  of  God, 
and  a  spark  of  immortality  which  will  never  go  out.  For 
me  Christ,  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  died.  I  am  worth  more 
than  all  this  magnificent  materialism.  I  am  A  MAN.  The 
elements  are  to  melt  with  fervent  heat.  This  world  is  to  be 
removed.  "  The  Milky  Way  will  shut  its  two  arms  and  hush 
its  dumb  prayer  forever,"  but  /  shall  live  with  a  destiny 
before  me  as  high  as  heaven  and  as  vast  as  eternity.  All  the 
material  universe,  with  its  grandeur,  its  beauty,  its  magnifi- 
cence, is  but  the  nursery  for  my  infant  soul,  and  the  child  is 
worth  more  than  the  nursery.  I,  a  living,  thinking,  hoping, 
reasoning,  believing  man,  am  worth  more  than  all  God's 
material  universe.  And  there  is  not  a  horse  in  your  stable, 
there  is  not  an  ox  in  the  stall,  there  is  not  a  snake  that  draws 
its  slimy  length  through  the  long  grass,  there  is  not  a  reptile 
that  you  crush  with  your  heel,  and  shudder  as  you  crush  it, 
but  is  better  fulfilling  the  purposes  of  God  in  its  creation 
than  is  a  man  when  he  — gets  drunk. 

It  is  an  awful  degradation,  and  yet  we  laugh  at  drunken- 
ness! —  at  certain  phases  of  it.  We  cannot  help  it.  I  do 
not  blame  people  for  laughing.  Man  is  the  only  animal  that 
can  laugh,  and  he  ought  to  enjoy  the  privilege,  and  I  mean 
to.  But  you  know,  and  I  know,  that  we  often  laugh  at  some 
of  the  phases  of  drunkenness.  The  funniest  farce  is  often 
35 


574 


THE  HUMOROUS  SIDE   OF  DRUNKENNESS. 


that  in  which  the  prominent  character  is  drunk.  How  people 
have  laughed  at  the  actions  of  "Toodles  !  "  I  never  saw  the 
play,  but  I  bought  the  book  to  see  what  sort  of  a  play  it  was. 
One  who  saw  it  said  he  laughed  at  the  imitation  of  the 
drunken  man  till  his  sides  ached.  I  could  fill  page  after 
page  by  relating  the  funniest  of  stories  about  the  drink,  but 
that  which  we  laugh  at  is  but  one  phase  of  an  awful  fact,  a 
dreadful  reality. 

To  be  sure  we  laugh.  One  poor  fellow  fell  down  a  flight 
of  thirty  or  forty 
stairs  in  Erie,  Penn- 
sylvania, and  when 
a  man  came  to  help 
him  up,  he  said :  "  Go 
away;  I  don't  want 
any  help ;  that  'sh 
the  way  I  all  us 
come  down  stairs." 
The  Bishop  of  Rhode  Island 
told  me  that  once  he  saw  a 
man  whom  he  had  known  years 
before,  very  drunk  by  the  side 
of  the  road.  He  went  to  him  and  said :  "  My  poor  fellow, 
I  am  really  sorry  for  you,"  and  went  away.  By  and  by  he 
heard  the  man  call,  "  Bishop,  Bishop  !  "  So  he  went  back. 
"Now,"  he  said,  "Bishop,  if  3^011  are  very  sorry,  and  you  say 
so,  I  will,  forgive  you."  We  laugh  at  such  drolleries  and  at 
such  vagaries  as  we  do  at  the  man  who  came  home  at  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning  and  said  it  was  but  one.  "  But,"  said 
his  wife,  "  the  clock  has  just  struck  four."  "  I  know  better, 
for  I  heard  it  strike  one  — repeatedly!" 

We  cannot  help  laughing,  but  we  know  all  the  while  that 
we  are  looking  at  only  one  phase  of  a  terrible  evil.     You 


STRUCK   BOTTOM. 


CRIES    FOR  HELP. 


575 


have  heard  of  the  man  who  went  into  his  house  in  the  dark, 
and,  being  very  thirsty,  groped  about  for  the  water  pitcher 
and  found  it.  He  lifted  it  to  his  mouth  and  began  to  drink 
very  rapidly.  One  of  his  children  had  dropped  a  soft  spool 
of  silk  into  the  pitcher,  and  in  his  hurry  he  swallowed  it. 
He  felt  something  very  disagreeable  and  strange,  and  he 
became  frightened,  and  dropped  the  pitcher.  "  Oh  dear,  oh 
dear,  oh  dear!  "  He 
caught  hold  of  the  end 
c  i  the  silk,  and  in  great 
affright  began  to  draw 
the  thread  from  his 
mouth.  "  Wife,  wife," 
lie  shouted,  "  hurry  up, 
hurry-  up,  I^m  all  un- 
ravelling !  " 

I  remember,   when  I 
was  in  Glasgow,  hearing 
a  man  in  the  city  hall 
tell  a  story  which  made 
me  laugh  till  my  sides  ^ 
ached.    I  was  not  laugh-  ^ 
ing  at  drunkenness,  but  ^. 
at    the    ridiculous    fea- 
tures of  it.    I  cannot  tell 


HUKRY   UP,    I'M   ALL,   UNRAVELLING." 


you  the  story  as  he  did,  but  I  will  give  you  an  idea  of  it. 
He  said :  — 

"  There  was  a  man,  a  laird,  who  went  with  his  man,  Sandy, 
to  pay  rent  to  the  Squire ;  and  the  two,  or  it  may  have  been 
all  three,  became  intoxicated.  In  the  gray  of  the  morning, 
the  laird  and  Sandy  were  riding  towards  home  on  horseback, 
and  very  drunk.  They  had  neglected  the  animals  all  night, 
so,  when  they  came  to  a  stream  of  water,  the  laird's  horse 


576  DECIDEDLY  MUDDLED. 

very  suddenly  put  down  his  head  to  drink,  and  the  laird, 
being  in  a  '  limpsy '  state,  as  we  call  it,  slipped  over  the 
pommel  of  the  saddle  and  the  head  of  the  horse,  into  the 
water.  4  Sandy,  Sandy  !  something  has  fallen  off.' 

"  4  No,  laird,  there  's  naething  fell  off.' 

"  '  Sandy,  I  heard  a  splash.' 

"  Sandy  dismounted  and  said  :  'It 's  yoursel'  that 's  in  the 
water.' 

"  '  It  canna  be  me,  Sandy,  for  I  'm  here.' 

"  Sandy  helped  the  laird  on  the  horse,  but  unfortunately 
he  was  this  time  mounted  the  wrong  side  before. 

"  '  Now,  Sandy,  gie  me  the  bridle ;  gie  me  the  bridle, 
Sandy.' 

" '  Wait  till  I  find  the  bridle.  There  is  na  any  bridle,  and 
there  is  na  any  place  for  a  bridle,'  said  Sandy. 

" 4  Gie  me  the  bridle,  Sandy ;  I  must  hae  one  to  steer  the 
beast  wi,'  exclaimed  the  laird. 

" 4  Ah,  laird,'  replied  Sandy,  '  here  's  a  miracle.  The  horse's 
head  's  aff,  an'  I  canna  find  the  place  where  it  was,  and  there 's 
naething  left  but  a  long  piece  o'  his  mane.' 

"  4  Gie  me  the  mane  then,  Sandy.  Woh,  woh  !  He  is  gang- 
in'  the  wrong  way,  Sandy.' "  And  so  the  thing  went  on.  I 
laughed  till  my  sides  ached.  We  laugh  at  such  stories 
because  they  are  ludicrous ;  but,  I  repeat,  they  illustrate  only 
one  phase  of  an  awful  fact. 

Do  not  say  I  make  merry  at  drunkenness.  A  man  in  one 
of  our  Connecticut  towns  came  home  drunk.  His  little  boy., 
of  three  and  a  half  to  four  years  of  age,  ran  forward  to  meet 
his  father.  Had  that  father  been  sober  the  boy  would  have,1 
been  nestling  in  his  bosom ;  but  lie  was  drunk,  and,  seizing 
the  little  fellow  by  the  shoulder,  he  lifted  him  right  over  his 
head  and  dashed  him  out  of  the  second-story  window,  through 
sash,  glass,  and  all ;  and  on  the  pavement  below  they  picked 


"COVER  IT  UP,   COVER  IT  UP."  579 

up  the  poor  boy  with  both  his  thighs  broken.  That  is  another 
phase  of  the  fact  you  laugh  at,  —  that  is,  when  a  man  is  drunk 
he  does  not  know  what  he  is  about,  he  has  dethroned  reason. 
And  so,  whether  you  laugh  or  cry  at  some  of  the  follies  of 
drunkenness,  whether  you  hold  your  sides  with  merriment,  or 
the  marrow  stands  cold  in  your  bones,  remember  that  drunk- 
enness is  blasting  to  everything  that  is  noble.  Young  men, 
what  an  awful  risk  you  run  by  intoxication  !  Did  you  ever 
wake  in  the  morning  and  wonder  how  you  reached  your  bed  ? 
Did  you  ever  lie  in  the  morning,  unable  to  think,  for  the  life 
of  you,  what  you  did  or  said  the  night  before?  Down  on 
your  knees,  down  on  your  knees,  and  thank  God  that  as 
you  staggered  forth,  not  knowing  what  you  were  doing,  He 
did  not  leave  you  to  do  that  which  would  cover  your 
whole  life  with  gloom,  as  with  a  garment,  or  plunge  you 
into  utter  ruin.  Why,  what  is  it  to  get  drunk?  Here  is' 
one  case  that  I  knew,  and  many  of  my  friends  were  at  the 
wedding,  —  a  grand  wedding.  Fifteen  hundred  dollars  were 
paid  for  the  flowers,  sent  expressly  from  New  York  for  the 
occasion.  The  house  had  been  enlarged  for  the  dancing. 
A  fast  young  man  and  a  beautiful  girl  were  united.  It 
was  a  gorgeous  wedding,  very  merry  and  jolly,  plenty  of 
wine ;  but  the  bridegroom  became  drunk,  and,  with  his 
clenched  fist,  two  hours  after  they  had  been  married,  he 
struck  his  bride  in  the  mouth.  "  Hush  !  hush !  "  was  the 
earnest  request  of  friends.  "  Don't  say  anything  about  it, 
don't  let  it  get  abroad.  Hush,  hush !  it  is  known  only 
to  those  here.  He  was  drunk,  and  did  not  know  what 
he  was  doing.  Cover  it  up,  cover  it  up."  So  they  did. 
Six  weeks  afterward,  on  his  wedding-trip,  he  was  drunk  again, 
and  drew  a  pistol  on  his  bride.  She  felt  that  her  life  was  not 
safe,  and  went  back  to  her  father's  house.  He  went  directly 
to  Toronto,  Canada,  became  drunk  again,  killed  a  policeman, 


580 


DRUNKARDS  AXD  FOOLS. 


was  tried,  convicted,  and  sentenced  to  be  hanged  in  less 
than  ninety  days  after  his  wedding.  Friends  interceded 
with  the  government,  and  lie  is  now  in  Kingston  peni- 
tentiary for  life.  Three  drunks  !  Three  times  intoxicated ! 

Oh,  young  men,  if  God 
has  spared  you,  and  you 
have  never  been  drunk 
in  your  lives,  down  on 
your  knees,  and,  in  the 
gratitude  of  your  souls, 
declare  that  you  will 
never  again  touch  that 
which  may  dethrone 
reason. 

If  I  ask  any  young 
man  who  is  in  the 
habit  of  d r i n ki n g. 
"Why  do  you  drink?" 
it  is  probable  his  an- 
swer will  be,  in  true 
Yankee  style,  "  Why 
If  I  should  say,  "Perhaps  you 


FOR   LIFE. 


should    I    not    drink? 


may  become  a  drunkard."  "No  fear  of  my  becoming  a 
drunkard.  I'm  not  such  a  fool  as  to  become  a  drunkard, 
sir  ?  "  As  if  all  were  fools,  in  the  common  acceptation 
of  that  term,  who  had  so  degraded  themselves!  I  do  not 
use  the  term  fool  in  a  moral  or  religious  sense.  All  who 
commit  wilful  sin  are  fools.  Are  they  all  fools  who  become 
drunkards?  Were  all  who  became  so  during  the  last  cen- 
tury, fools?  There  are  men  with  minds  so  gigantic  that 
they  could  "stand  with  one  foot  on  the  daisy  while  the 
other  was  lost  among  the  dust  of  the  stars,"  and  yet 
their  minds  have  been  crippled  by  strong  drink;  men  who 


FALSE  ARGUMENTS.  581 

might  have  showered  great  thoughts  all  round  them,  as  the 
oak  sheds  a  layer  of  golden  leaves  in  autumn.  Such  men  are 
more  like  drowsy  bats,  clinging  to  the  dry  limb  of  a  dead 
tree,  than  like  living  souls.  You  say,  "  I  have  a  mind  of  my 
own,  and  can  leave  off  when  I  like,"  —  as  if  the  poor  wretch 
who  has  become  a  drunkard  could  not  once  say  the  same. 
You  say,  "I  have  more  pride  than  to  become  a  sot,"-  — as  if 
the  drunkard  did  not  once  have  pride  as  well  as  you ;  as  if  he 
had  not  all  the  qualities  necessary  to  constitute  him  a  man, 
as  well  as  you.  All  your  arguments  are  false,  young  man, 
and  you  know  it. 

In  the  temperance  work  we  have  great  reason  to  thank 
God,  and  take  courage.  If  this  cause  be  of  man,  it  will  come 
to  naught ;  if  it  be  of  God,  you  cannot  overthrow  it.  We 
judge  of  the  righteousness  of  our  cause  by  the  results,  and 
these  are :  The  restoration  of  many  drunkards  to  society,  vir- 
tue, and  religion ;  the  growing  sentiment  against  social  drink- 
ing, as  a  safeguard  to  the  young ;  the  increased  opposition  to 
the  liquor  traffic.  Therefore  we  will  take  courage,  and  work 
on,  leaving  the  final  results  in  the  hands  of  Him  in  whose 
hands  are  the  hearts  of  all  men ;  working,  praying,  hoping, 
and  believing  that,  though  we  may  not  live  to  rejoice  over  the 
results,  though  we  may  see  no  green  blade  rising  to  bless  our 
sight,  we  may  in  the  better  land  welcome  those  who  shall 
come  laden  with  sheaves  reaped  upon  the  harvest-field  we 
have  been  permitted  to  sow  and  pray  over,  but  of  which  we 
have  not  been  permitted  to  gather  in  the  increase. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

THE    REASON     WHY  —  THE     FIRST     GLASS  —  RECOLLECTIONS 
OF   MY   FATHER  —  HUMOROUS   STORIES. 

Our  Standpoint  —  Opposition  We  Meet  —  An  Obliging  Blacksmith  —  My 
Respect  for  Other  People's  Opinions  —  Power  of  Truth  — What  Makes 
Public  Sentiment  —  Our  Duty  —  A  Funny  Story  as  Told  by  Bishop 
Clark  —  A  Disputed  Question  in  Astronomy  —  A  Laughable  Incident  — 
An  Unnatural  Appetite  —  The  Struggle  of  a  Lifetime  —  Why  I  Am 
Polite  to  Dogs  —  Giving  the  Curs  a  Wide  Berth  —  My  Dread  of  Hydro- 
phobia —  What  Ptev.  E.  II.  Chapin  Said  —  Terrible  Results  of  the  First 
Glass  —  A  Graphic  Picture  —  Recollections  of  My  Father  —  His  Habit  of 
Moderate  Drinking  — His  Death  at  Ninety-four  —  Advice  to  Moderate 
Drinkers  —  An  Infamous  Example  —  The  Man  at  the  Top  of  the  Church 
Spire  —  A  Dangerous  Position  — "O  Sandy,  I'm  havin'  an  Awfu' 
Tumble  "  —  A  Physician's  Story —  Smoked  to  Death. 


HE  whole  range  of  argument 
in  reference  to  the  temper- 
ance question  has  been  gone 
over  again  and  again.  I  be- 
lieve all  has  been  said  on  the 
subject  that  need  be  said,  if 
those  who  hear  would  only 
act  according  to  their  convictions. 

It  is  a  difficult  matter  to  speak  on 
the  temperance  question,  because  we 
do  not  stand  on  debatable  ground. 
In  every  great  enterprise  it  is  neces- 
sary to  lay  down  certain  propositions,  certain  points  upon 
which  to  base  operations,  and  the  difficulty  has  been  to  ob- 
tain the  assent  of  the  people  to  these  necessary  points.  But 
there  is  no  difficulty  here  in  the  temperance  movement.  To 

582 


A  BLIGHTING  CURSE.  533 

the  first  proposition  which  we  lay  down  is  yielded  the  con- 
scious, willing  assent  of  every  sane  and  reflecting  mind 
among  us ;  namely,  that  drunkenness  is  a  great  evil.  Is  there 
any  need  of  argument  on  this  point  ?  Were  I  to  occupy  five 
minutes  in  endeavoring  to  prove  that  drunkenness  was  a 
blasting,  blighting,  debasing  curse,  I  should  be  insulting  your 
common  sense.  Were  I  to  attempt  to  prove  our  second 
point,  that  it  is  every  man's  duty  to  do  all  he  can  to  remove 
a  common  curse,  every  man's  privilege  to  remove  all  the  evil 
he  possibly  can,  I  should  only  be  mocking  you.  My  state- 
ment, viz.,  that  degraded  manhood,  blackened  characters, 
broken  hearts,  and  lost  souls,  towering  like  monuments  to 
the  very  heavens,  are  the  results  of  drunkenness,  will  be 
accepted  by  every  thoughtful  and  candid  person. 

If  this,  then,  be  the  general  conviction,  that  drunkenness 
is  a  curse  and  that  it  is  every  man's  duty  to  remove  a  curse, 
we  have  the  consciences  of  the  whole  people  at  the  start ;  but 
many  are  satisfied  with  their  assent  to  our  statements,  and  do 
nothing  more  than  assent.  I  would  not  give  a  snap  of  my 
finger  for  a  man's  smile,  or  a  fig  for  his  God-speed,  or  a  copper 
for  all  his  good  wishes,  unless  he  help  me.  I  am  not  now  en- 
deavoring to  convince  you, — you  are  already  convinced;  but 
what  I  hope  to  do,  God  helping  me,  is  to  say  something  that 
shall  stir  you  to  action. 

The  fact  is,  we  have  but  very  little  tangible  opposition  to 
contend  with.  Sneering  ridicule  of  our  principles,  con- 
temptuous allusions  to  our  movement,  we  care  nothing  for. 
We  say  of  them  just  what  a  big  blacksmith  said  of  his  wife. 
He  was  about  six  feet  tall  and  broad  in  proportion,  and 
he  had  a  vixen  of  a  wife  —  a  little  bit  of  a  thing — who  used 
to  flog  him  most  unmercifully.  Some  one  said  to  him, 
"Well,  now,  if  I  was  as  big  a  fellow  as  you,  I  would  not 
stand  that;  I'd  let  that  spiteful  little  wretch  know  her 


584 


AX  ACCOMMODATING  HUSBAND. 


place.  I  'd  soon  let  her  see  that  I  would  be  master."  "  Oh," 
said  he,  "  let  her  alone,  let  her  alone  ;  she 's  a  poor  little 
thing,  and  it  gratifies  her  a  good  deal  and  don't  hurt  me  a 
bit."  So  we  say  of  men  who  sneer,  —  let  them  sneer  until  the 
lip  grows  rigid  with  the  curl  they  put  upon  it,  let  them  speak 

contemptuously  of  our 
movement,  we  do  not 
mind  it  a  particle  ;  we  be- 
lieve we  have  the  best  of 
the  argument  and  that 
all  the  facts  are  on  our 
(/  side. 

Bald,  open,  manly  op- 
position we  meet  but  sel- 
dom. We  have  arguments 
occasionally,  but  some  of 
them  forcibly  remind  me 
of  a  celebrated  divine  who 
said :  "  There  is  only  one 
man  in  Germany  who  un- 
derstands my  doctrine, 
and  he  don't  understand 
it."  I  maintain  that  a 
man  has  a  right  to  his 
own  opinion.  I  would 

give  but  little  for  the  man  who  has  not  an  opinion  of  his 
own,  and  far  less  for  him  who,  when  he  has  an  opinion, 
lacks  the  courage  to  utter  or  defend  it.  If  a  man  differs 
from  me  in  opinion,  I  can  still  respect  him.  I  can  fight 
with  a  man  with  all  my  heart,  and  love  him ;  I  can  "  shake 
hands  with  him  and  box  him  afterwards."  It  does  not  de- 
stroy nor  diminish  my  respect  for  him  because  he  does  not 
agree  with  me.  Why,  some  very  good  men  do  not  agree 


AN    OBLIGING   HUSBAND. 


THE  POWEK  OF  TRUTH.  535 

with  me  ;  am  I  then  to  despise  them  ?  If  any  man  takes  his 
ground  in  opposition  to  me,  I  can  battle  him  with  all  the 
intellectual  power  God  has  given  me,  and  hug  him  with  all 
the  physical  power  I  possess,  and  feel  that  he  is  not  the  less  a 
brother.  But  the  man  who  has  not  the  moral  courage  to 
declare  the  principles  he  has  adopted,  who  will  not  state 
which  side  he  is  on,  saying  to  one,  "  I  am  with  you,"  and  to 
another,  "I  am  with  you,"  sometimes  one  thing,  sometimes 
another,  —  such  a  man  I  hold  in  supreme  contempt. 

There  are  only  two  ways  in  which  we  can  be  opposed,  — 
by  falsehood  and  by  truth.  If  a  position  is  maintained  by 
falsehood,  what  then  ?  Why,  we  bring  truth  to  oppose  the 
falsehood.  As  John  Milton  has  said :  "  Let  the  truth  and 
the  falsehood  grapple  ;  truth  never  was  worsted  in  an  encoun- 
ter with  falsehood."  Let  the  truth  be  placed  upon  the 
scaffold  with  the  halter  about  its  neck,  and  falsehood  be 
seated  on  the  throne ;  let  the  truth  be  clothed  in  the  rags 
of  poverty,  munching  her  dry  crust,  and  falsehood  be  clad 
in  rich  apparel,  feasting  sumptuously;  there  would  still  be 
"  beautiful  angels  standing  around  the  truth,"  and  within  the 
"  dim  shadows  God  himself  keeps  watch  over  his  own."  Our 
cause  is  a  good  one ;  it  is  to  be  advanced  and  consolidated  by 
the  power  of  the  truth ;  and  when  we  unfurl  and  give  to  the 
breeze  the  banner  of  triumph,  it  is  by  the  power  of  the  truth. 
It  is  truth  acting  on  the  minds  of  the  people  that  is  manufac- 
turing that  public  sentiment  which  is  gathering  strength  as  it 
rolls  through  the  valleys ;  and  the  mountains  are  preparing 
to  take  up  and  toss  from  summit  to  summit  the  glorious 
tidings,  "  The  land  is  free  from  the  curse  of  drunkenness." 

Now,  believing  in,  and  acting  upon,  the  principle  that  it  is 
our  duty  to  do  all  that  we  can  to  remove  an  evil,  and  believ- 
ing that  the  use  of  intoxicating  liquor  as  a  beverage  is  not 
only  needless,  but  hurtful  to  the  social,  civil,  and  religious 


586  A  DISPUTED  QUESTION  IN  ASTRONOMY. 

interests  of  the  community,,  and  that,  while  its  use  as  a  bever- 
age is  continued,  the   evils   of  drunkenness   will   never   be 
destroyed,  we  agree  that  we  will  not  use  it  as  a  beverage,  nor 
traffic  in  it,  nor  provide  it  for  others,  and  that  we  will  dis- 
countenance its  use  throughout  the  community ;  thus,  stand- 
ing in  an   attitude  of  antagonism  to  the  use  of    the  drink, 
whether  at  the  sideboard  of  the  wealthy,  in  the  social  circle, 
or  in  the  dram-shop,  we  advocate,  maintain,  and  defend  the 
principle  of  total  abstinence  as  a  lawful  principle,  a  sensible 
principle,  and  one  which,  if  universally  adopted,  would  roll 
back  the  tide  of  intemperance  from  this  land  forever. 
1    I  have  said  that  every  man  has  a  right  to  object,  and  we 
have  a  right  to  meet  his  objections  if  we  do  it  in  a  spirit  of 
courtesy.     It  is  difficult  to  obtain  the  objections  of  indivi- 
duals to  our  position.     I  acknowledge  that  the  man  who  is 
always  contradicting  you  is  a  very  disagreeable  person,  but, 
to  my  thinking,  a  more  disagreeable  person  still  is  he  who  is 
always  agreeing  with  you.     I  would  rather  live  in  a  house 
with  a  man  or  woman  who  contradicted  every  word  I  said 
than  with  a  man  or  woman  who  agreed  with  me  in  every- 
thing.    Such  persons  are  never  able  to  come  to  any  decision. 
They  remind  me  of  a  story  Bishop  Clark  of  Rhode  Island 
told  me  of  two  men  coming  home  about  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning  in  a  maudlin  state  of  intoxication.     As  they  stag- 
gered   along,    one    said :     "  Don't    you    think    the    sun    is 
shining  very  brilliantly?"      "Sun,"   said  the  other,   "that 
ishn't   the  sun;  that'sh  the  moon."     "No,"  said  the  first, 
"  it 's  the  sun,"  and  so   they  discussed  together  until  a  little 
ill-temper  began  to  manifest  itself.     Finally,  they  agreed  to 
leave  the  matter  to  the  first  person  they  should  meet.     Soon 
after,  a  man  came  along,  but  unfortunately  he  was  in  the 
same  condition  as  themselves.     "  I  say,  old  fellow,  here  's  a 
d'shpute,  and  we  want  you  to  shettle  it,  and  be  an  umpire  and 


AN   AWFUL  LEGACY. 


58T 


ref'ree.  Now,  you  jusht  look  where  I'm  pointing,  and  the 
question  ish,  ish  that  the  sun,  or  ish  it  the  moon  ?  "  After 
looking  upward  in  a  maudlin  way  for  a  few  minutes,  he  said : 
"  Ish  it  the  sun,  or  ish  it  the  moon  ?  Well,  genTmen,  you 
must  'scuse  me,  I  'm  a  stranger  in  this  part  of  the  country." 

A  gentleman 
said  to  me  (for  I 
must. meet  the 
objections  that 
come  before  me), 
"Your  name, 
'temperance  socie- 
ty,' is  a  misnomer. 
It  should  be  4  total 
abstinence  socie- 
ty ; '  yours  are  tee- 
total societies,  not 
temperance  socie- 
ties." Why,  what 
is  the  definition  of 
the  word  "  temper- 
ance?" It  is  a 
lawful  gratifi- 
cation of  a  natu- 
ral appetite.  Is 
the  appetite  for 
intoxicating  liquors  a  natural  one  ?  No !  No  man  ever  came 
into  the  world  with  an  appetite  for  intoxicating  drinks,  except 
in  those  cases  (rare,  thank  God !)  where  the  sins  of  the  fathers 
are  visited  upon  the  children,  and  a  child  comes  into  the  world 
with  an  hereditary  tendency  to  drink.  The  habit  of  using 
intoxicating  liquors  is  an  acquired  one,  just  as  the  habit  of 
using  tobacco  is.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  child  crying  for  a  quid 


TWO  O'CLOCK  IN  THE  MORNING.     "ISH  IT  THE 
SUN  OK  ISH  IT  THE  MOON  ?" 


.588  A  MINISTER'S  EXPERIENCE. 

of  tobacco  or  a  pipe  ?  It  does  not  want  it.  No  man  ever 
wanted  liquor  who  had  not  used  it ;  the  want  is  created  by 
the  use,  except,  I  say,  in  those  fearful  cases  referred  to. 
Once  in  a  while  I  come  across  such,  and  I  hold  them  up  as 
a  warning  to  those  parents  who  may  be  sowing  the  seeds  of 
an  awful  appetite  in  the  systems  of  their  children. 

A  minister  of  the  gospel  wrote  me  a  letter  describing  his  suf- 
ferings from  the  craving  of  an  hereditary  appetite,  and  asked  : 
"Is  there  no  hope  for  me  on  this  side  the  grave?"  And  all  I 
•could  do  was  to  write  him  that  the  grandest  sight  on  the  face 
of  the  earth  was  a  man  wrestling  with  a  hereditary  tendency 
to  evil ;  all  good  angels  were  with  him,  the  Saviour  of  man- 
kind sympathized  with  him,  and  the  victory  would  be  certain 
if  he  only  persevered ;  and  the  crown  would  be  so  much  the 
more  glorious  for  the  terrible  struggle  of  his  lifetime.  The 
appetite  for  strong  drink  is,  with  such  rare  exceptions,  pro- 
duced by  the  use  of  the  article  which  the  man  craves. 

But  you  say  :  "  All  who  drink  do  not  become  drunkards." 
I  know  that ;  but  a  minority  of  those  who  drink  become 
what  we  call  drunkards.  "There  is  no  necessity  for  a  drinker 
of  intoxicating  liquors  to  become  a  drunkard."  I  care  not 
for  the  necessity ;  some  of  them  will ;  by  all  past  experience 
we  know  they  will.  Fill  a  room  with  young  men,  and  let 
each  man  as  he  passes  out  declare,  "I  will  be  a  moderate 
drinker ;  I  will  exercise  self-denial  and  control  myself ;  I  will 
drink  in  moderation,  and  never  to  excess ;  "  take  pen,  ink, 
and  paper,  and  you  can  make  about  as  correct  a  calculation 
of  the  proportion  of  those  young  men  who  will  become 
drunkards,  as  life  insurance  companies  can  of  the  death-rate 
of  the  insured.  Is  it  reasonable  to  encourage  drinking  on 
the  ground  that  not  all  who  drink  are  ruined  ?  A  mad  dog 
is  tearing  down  the  streets,  foaming  at  the  mouth  and  snap- 
ping his  teeth.  You  say,  "  Kill  him  ;  "  I  ask  you  why ;  you 


A  TERRIBLE  DISEASE.  589 

tell  me  he  is  mad.  "What  if  he  is  mad?  He  is  one  of  God's 
good  creatures,  let  him  run."  "  Yes,  but  he  will  bite  some- 
body." "How  do  you  know?  He  may  bite  nobody,  and 
surely  he  cannot  bite  everybody;  let  him  run."  No,  you 
destroy  the  dog,  because  there  is  a  risk.  Some  one  may  be 
bitten,  and  the  dread  of  hydrophobia  is  so  great  that  you  kill 
the  dog  for  absolute  safety. 

Hydrophobia  is  an  awful  disease.  I  remember,  when  quite 
a  boy,  of  reading  a  description  of  the  death  of  a  man  by 
hydrophobia,  and  it  made  such  an  impression  on  my  mind 
that  I  have  ever  given  dogs  a  wide  berth.  I  am  very  polite 
to  a  dog.  I  give  him  either  side  of  the  path,  as  he  may 
choose,  and  if  he  lies  directly  in  my  way,  I  go  round  him 
rather  than  disturb  him.  I  have  more  than  once  declined  vis- 
iting a  friend  for  fear  of  his  dog,  and  I  generally  ask  my  host, 
"Have  you  a  dog  here?"  If  he  tells  me  he  has,  I  inquire, 
44  Does  he  bite  ?  "  And  then  I  am  on  my  guard  and  avoid 
coming  in  contact  with  the  animal  as  much  as  possible.  More 
than  once  a  strange  dog  has  come  near  me  with  a  snarl,  and 
I  have  said  very  softly,  "  Dear  old  fellow,"  when  I  would 
rather  have  shot  the  beast.  If  I  should  ever  be  bitten  by  a 
dog,  I  should  hardly  be  free  from  apprehension  the  rest  of 
my  days.  The  terror  and  dread  of  that  horrible  disease 
would  worry  me  into  a  nervous  fever.  And  yet,  with  my 
personal  knowledge  of  drunkenness,  with  my  experience  with 
others,  I  would  rather  stand  steady  while  you  set  upon  me 
the  maddest  dog  that  ever  ran  in  your  streets,  and  I  would 
permit  him  to  tear  the  flesh  from  my  limbs,  rather,  I  say,  than 
become  that  pitiful  thing,  a  confirmed  drunkard.  Hydropho- 
bia is  something  awful  to  me;  I  know  what  the  other  thing  is. 

I  once  heard  Rev.  E.  H.  Chapin  say,  in  Tremont  Temple, 
Boston,  with  his  hand  lifted,  in  his  earnestness,  "  Would  to 
God  that  the  first  drop  of  intoxicating  liquor  a  man  should 


590  SOCIETY'S  CURSE. 

take  into  his  system  would  produce  in  him  at  once  the  result 
of  years  of  drunkenness."  I  thought  that  was  a  shocking 
utterance  ;  but  when  I  comprehended  his  full  meaning,  I  said, 
Amen.  For  if  the  awful  penalty  came  with  the  first  glass,  if 
the  pain  of  reaction  came  before  the  pleasure  of  the  stimulus, 
no  man  would  drink,  no  father  would  dare  to  give  strong 
drink  to  his  child,  no  mother  would  offer  it  to  her  babe. 
The  drinking  customs  of  the  civilized  world  would  come  to 
an  end  in  twenty-four  hours.  Now  it  is  because  some  people 
can  and  do  drink,  that  we  appeal  to  every  one. 

Is  not  drunkenness  so  to  be  dreaded  that  society  should  be 
willing  and  ready  to  make  some  sacrifice  to  remove  the  cause 
that  is  producing  such  disastrous  results,  by  adopting  the  safe 
course  of  abstinence  ?  No  man  ever  intends  to  become  a 
drunkard.  No  man  ever  took  a  glass  in  his  hand,  and  apos- 
trophized it  thus :  "  Here  I  stand,  in  vigor  and  health,  with 
fine  physical  development  and  high  ambition.  I  have  a  mother 
who  loves  me  tenderly,  a  wife  and  children  who  cling  to  me 
with  loving  affection.  I  am  respectable  and  respected.  My 
ambition  is  high,  my  hopes  are  bright.  Now  with  this  I  will 
ruin  my  health ;  with  this  I  will  blast  my  prospects ;  with 
this  I  will  stain  my  reputation ;  with  this  I  will  destroy  my 
manliness ;  with  this  I  will  break  my  mother's  heart ;  with 
this  I  will  bring  disgrace  on  wife,  children,  and  all  who  love 
me ;  with  this  I  will  burn  out  the  last  principle  of  vitality 
from  a  poor,  half-putrefied  carcass,  and  men  shall  sweep  me 
away  with  the  pitiful  leavings  of  a  dram-shop,  and  in  after 
years  shall  speak  of  me  with  bated  breath,  for  4  the  memory 
of  the  wicked  shall  rot.'  Now  I  will  take  my  first  step  to 
just  such  a  consummation  by  taking  MY  FIRST  GLASS."  No 
man  would  be  such  a  consummate  fool.  And  yet  men  are 
doing  these  very  things,  doing  them  here,  doing  them  every- 
where ;  ay,  bringing  woe  and  horror  and  cursing  into  their 


CHRISTIAN  MODERATE  DRINKERS.  591 

own  souls  and  into  their  own  families,  greater  than  the  mind 
of  man  can  conceive. 

To  return  to  the  statement  that  all  who  drink  do  not  be- 
come drunkards.  I  acknowledge  that  there  are  some  men 
who  can  drink  moderately,  —  and  there  are  others  who  cannot. 
We  know  there  are  respectable,  moral,  God-fearing,  Christian, 
moderate  drinkers.  My  father  was  a  moderate  drinker  all  his 
life.  He  drank  his  glass  of  ale  every  day  at  dinner,  and 
every  night  at  supper,  when  he  could  get  it,  and  occasionally, 
as  a  rare  treat,  a  glass  of  hot  spirits-and-water,  generally  on 
the  day  when  he  received  his  pension,  —  once  in  three  months, 
—  that  being  a  high  day,  and  a  long-looked-for  occasion.  My 
father  never  was  known  to  be  intoxicated,  and  he  was  a  man 
who  was  very  indignant  at,  and  had  no  patience  with,  any 
man  who,  to  use  his  own  expression,  drank  more  than  was 
good  for  him.  He  was  a  Christian  moderate  drinker,  and  died 
aged  ninety-four  years.  A  gentleman  to  whom  I  related  the 
fact  of  my  father's  moderation,  said  he  thought  that  was  an 
argument  against  my  position,  and  an  encouragement  to 
drinkers.  As  much  so  as  the  man  to  whom  I  was  introduced 
in  Washington,  who  was  eighty-eight  years  of  age,  who  had 
had  three  bullets  in  his  body  since  1812,  or  nearly  seventy 
years,  was  an  encouragement  to  any  young  man  to  get  three 
bullets  in  his  body  that  he  might  live  to  be  eighty-eight.  Now 
while  my  father  could  be  a  moderate  drinker,  his  son  could 
no  more  be  a  moderate  drinker  than  he  could  blow  up  a  pow- 
der magazine  moderately,  or  fire  a  gun  off  gradually,  or  do 
any  other  impossible  thing.  "  Ah,  then,"  say  you,  "  you  are 
a  weak-minded  man."  Very  well,  let  it  go  at  that ;  but  if  I 
am  so  weak-minded  that  I  cannot  drink  in  moderation,  thank 
God  I  am  strong  enough  to  let  it  alone  altogether. 

Let  me  say  a  few  words  to  moderate  drinkers,  because  they 
are  the  hardest  cases  to  persuade  we  have  to  deal  with.  They 


592  AN  INFAMOUS  EXAMPLE. 

have  lost  no  reputation,  they  are  not  injured  in  health  or 
property,  their  gloss  of  respectability  is  not  dimmed,  no  ap- 
parent injury  (I  leave  the  internal  injury  to  the  physiologists), 
comes  to  them  by  the  use  of  intoxicating  liquor,  and  there- 
fore they  say,  "  Why  should  I  sign  your  total  abstainer's 
pledge?  I  never  drink  enough  to  hurt  me."  And  if  we  get 
them  to  sign  our  pledge,  or  adopt  our  principle,  they  must 
do  it  in  a  large-hearted  spirit  of  self-denying  benevolence; 
must  do  it  for  the  sake  of  others,  —  and  that  is  the  highest 
motive,  in  my  opinion,  that  can  move  a  man  to  do  it. 

What  I  want  to  say  to  the  moderate  drinker  is  this :  You 
make  one  great  mistake  in  setting  up  your  example  as  a  GOOD 
one  ;  and  there  is  your  mistake.  Now  I  say  to  you,  Drink,  if 
you  will,  drink  if  you  must,  drink  till  you  die ;  but  do  not 
dare  to  tell  young  men  around  you  that  you  set  them  a  good 
example  by  your ,  drinking.  What  is  a  good  example  ?  It 
is  an  example  that  young  men  can  follow  in  safety.  You 
say,  "  If  young  men  do  as  I  do."  Ah !  if  they  do. 

I  remember  once  seeing  in  a  town  in  New  York  State  a 
very  beautiful  spire  of  a  new  church,  and  just  about  ten  feet 
from  "  the  ball "  a  plank  was  pushed  out,  with  ropes  over  the 
ends  of  it.  The  plank  was  let  down,  and  the  ropes  were 
fastened  inside  of  the  window.  There  was  a  platform, — 
perhaps  five  or  six  feet  from  this  little  window,  and  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  feet  above  the  roadway.  I  saw  a  man  get  out 
of  that  window  and  stand  on  that  little  platform.  Could  you 
do  it  ?  He  spoke  to  a  man  on  the  sidewalk.  The  man  called 
up  to  him,  and  he  stooped  over  the  plank,  with  his  hand  upon 
his  knee,  and  replied  to  the  man  upon  the  pavement.  Now  I 
know  that  if  I  had  undertaken  to  stand  on  that  plank,  the 
very  moment  my  foot  touched  it,  and  I  saw  the  awful  depth 
beneath,  ah !  I  should  have  gone  down  more  swiftly  than  the 
man  who  fell  out  of  the  eleventh-story  window,  and,  passing  a 


A  FALL  FROM  AN  ELEVENTH  STORY  WINDOW. 


593 


friend  looking  out  of  the  fourth  story,  said,  "  Oh,  Sandy,  I'm 
havin'  an  awfu'  tumble."  There  would  have  been  no  mind, 
no  intellect,  no  genius,  no  will,  no  power  on  earth  that  could 
have  saved  me.  I  must  have  fallen;  to  have  stood  firm  would 
have  been  to  me  plrysi- 
cally  impossible.  Now 
you  might,  perhaps,  stand 
there ;  but  suppose  that  in 
so  standing  you  tell  me 
you  set  me  a  good  exam- 
ple. I  say  to  you,  "  Stand 
there,  if  you  like,  I  have 
no  objection.  You  may 
stand  there  from  now 
till  to-morrow  morning, 
or,  like  Simon  Stylites, 
on  his  pillar,  for  thirty 
years ;  but  do  not  tell  me 
you  set  me  a  good  exam- 
ple."  You  tell  me, 
"  Why,  I  stand  here  per- 
fectly safe  ;  "  and  you  in- 
duce me  to  try  and  follow 
your  example,  and  I  fall. 
What  then?  Are  not 
your  hands  stained  with 
my  blood  ?  Can  you  get 
away  from  that?  "It 
must  needs  be  that  offences  come,  but  woe  to  that  man  by 
whom  the  offence  cometh."  If  you  stand  there  safely 
yourself,  and  induce  me  to  stand  there,  and  I  fall,  what 
then?  Why,  you  say  I  am  "weak-headed."  Well,  then,  by 
God's  help  I  will  keep  off  the  plank ;  that 's  all.  I  tell  you, 


"OH,  SANDY,  I'M  HAVIN'  AN 
AWFU'  TUMBLE." 


594 


FIGHTING  A  PLUG  OF  TOBACCO. 


sir,  and  I  tell  you,  madam,  that  every  one,  from  the  begin- 
ning, who  has  become  a  drunkard,  has  become  so  by  trying  to 
be  a  moderate  drinker. 

But  you  say,  "  they  are  weak-minded."  It  tells  of  more 
mind,  more  strength  of  will,  more  firmness  of  purpose,  more 
decision  of  character,  to  break  a  bad  habit  than  it  does  to 
acquire  one.  I  knew  a  man  who  under- 
took to  give  up  the  use  of  tobacco.  He 
put  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  took  out  his 
plug  of  tobacco,  and  threw  it  away,  say- 
ing as  he  did  so,  "  That 's  the  end  of  it." 
But  it  was  the  beginning  of  it.  Oh, 
how  he  did  want  it !  He  would  lick 
his  lips,  he  would  chew  chamomile  flow- 
ers, he  would  chew  gentian,  he  would 
chew  toothpicks,  quills,  anything  to 
keep  his  jaws  going ;  no  use,  he  suffered 
intensely,  nothing  satisfying  him.  After 
enduring  the  craving  for  thirty-six  or 
forty-eight  hours,  he  made  up  his  mind, 
"  Now  it  is  of  no  use  suffering  for  a  bit  of 
tobacco,  I  will  go  and  get  some."  So  he 
purchased  another  plug,  and  put  it  in  his 
pocket.  "  Now,"  he  said,  "  when  I  want 

it  awfully,  I  '11  take  some."  Well,  he  did  want  it  awfully, 
and  he  said  he  believed  that  it  was  God's  good  spirit  that  was 
striving  with  him  as  he  held  the  tobacco  in  his  hand.  Look- 
ing at  it,  and  smelling  it,  he  said  "  I  love  you,  and  I  want  you, 
but  are  you  my  master,  or  am  I  yours  ?  That  is  the  question 
I  mean  to  settle.  You  are  a  weed,  and  I  am  a  man.  You  are 
a  thing,  and  I  am  a  man.  You  black  devil,  I  '11  master  you,  if 
I  die  for  it.  It  never  shall  be  said  of  me  again,  'there  is  a 
man  mastered  by  a  thing.'  I  love  you,  but  I  will  fight  you." 


I  WILL  FIGHT  YOU.' 


TO  LOVERS  OF  THE  WEED.  595 

Every  time  he  wanted  it,  he  would  take  it  out  and  talk  to  it. 
It  was  six  or  eight  weeks  before  he  could  throw  it  away,  and 
feel  easy.  But  he  said  the  glory  of  the  victory  repaid  him 
for  his  struggle. 

We  are  told  that  it  is  harder  to  give  up  tobacco  than  it  is 
to  give  up  drink.  It  may  be  in  certain  cases.  Here  is  a  young 
man,  for  instance:  "Charley,  have 
a  glass  of  ale  ?  "  "  No,  I  don 't  care 
for  it ;  I  '11  take  a  cigar."  And  if 
a  man  drinks  his  glass  of  ale  only 
once  or  twice  a  week,  but  takes 
cigars  eight  or  ten  times  a 
day,  he  has  the  tobacco  ap- 
petite, and  it  will  be  harder 
for  that  man  to 
give  up  the  ci- 
gars and  the 
tobacco  than 
the  drink.  The 
love  of  tobacco 
is  a  very  strong 
love ;  you  know 
that.  Ay,  and 

A  TOUGH   PATIENT. 

so  do  I.  A  phy- 
sician in  Halifax  told  me  that  he  had  a  patient  who  would  use 
tobacco.  "  Tobacco  is  killing  you,"  he  said  to  him.  It  made 
no  difference  ;  he  smoked  his  pipe  still.  At  last  a  tobacco- 
cancer  came  upon  his  lip.  "  Now,"  said  the  physician,  "  you 
are  feeding  that  by  your  tobacco."  No  use  ;  he  would  smoke. 
An  operation  was  performed,  and  a  painful  one,  and,  said  the 
physician,  "  I  told  him  I  would  call  in  next  morning ;  and, 
twenty-four  hours  after  that  operation,  I  found  him  propped  up 
in  bed,  with  his  face  bound  up  on  one  side,  and  a  pipe  in  the 


596  A:NT  UNFORTUNATE  SMOKER. 

other  side  of  his  mouth."  Some  years  since  I  was  acquainted 
with  a  young  man,  doing  a  fine  business  in  one  of  our  large 
cities,  who  smoked  incessantly.  He  told  me  that  he  used 
from  twenty  to  twenty-five  cigars  each  day.  He  generally 
smoked  one  or  two  before  breakfast,  and  often  smoked  after 
he  went  to  bed.  I  told  him,  then,  that  he  would  kill  himself. 
He  laughed,  and  said,  "  I  am  a  hard  smoker,  and  I  guess  it  is 
hurting  me/'  A  short  time  since  I  inquired  for  him.  The 
reply  to  the  question  was,  "  Dead ;  smoked  himself  to  death." 
Now,  it  is  "  mighty  hard,"  as  we  say,  to  break  off  a  habit 
of  smoking,  or  of  using  tobacco ;  but  when  the  appetite  for 
drink  lays  hold  of  a  man,  what  then  ?  Do  you  know  what  it 
is?  Some  do.  The  crying,  burning,  itching  sense.  As  a 
man  said  to  me,  using  a  homely  expression,  "  I  felt  as  if  I  had 
an  irritating  itch  in  my  stomach,  and  could  not  get  at  it." 
If  these  statements  concerning  this  terrible  appetite  are  true, 
is  not  total  abstinence  sensible  and  right  ?  We  believe  it  is ; 
and  we  advocate  it  in  the  hope  and  faith  that  by  and  by 
the  drinking  customs  will  be  banished  from  our  dear  country 
forever. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

AGENTS     OF     THE    DEVIL  —  HOW     LIQUOR-SELLERS    MAKE 
PAUPERS,   FEED   JAILS,   AND   INCITE   CRIME. 

A  Truthful  Sign-board —Specimens  of  the  Liquor-seller's  Work  —  A  Remi- 
niscence of  Other  Days  —  A  Pitiable  Spectacle  —  Placing  a  Drunkard  on 
Exhibition  at  a  Fair  —  Fruit  of  the  Dram-Shop  —  Protecting  the  Rum- 
seller —  Fearful  Responsibility  —  Remarkable  Offer  of  P.  T.  Barnum  — 
Stubborn  Facts  —  Startling  Figures  — Sad  Results  —  Haunts  of  Vice  — 
Where  Criminals  and  Paupers  Come  From  —  Hot-beds  of  Crime  —  A  Sug- 
gestive Incident  —  Empty  Jails  —  Terrible  Scenes  —  Newgate  Prison  — 
A  Pocket  With  a  Hole  in  It  —  An  Incident  of  London  Life  —  Sunday 
Scene  at  the  Seven  Dials  —  Watching  the  Door  of  "The  Grapes"  — A 
Wretched  Crowd  —  Disgraceful  Scenes  —  A  Terrible  Threat  Against  My 
Life  —Amusing  Incident  —  Recalling  My  Dark  Days  —  A  Faithful  Wife  — 
"John,  Don't  be  Soft "— Incident  of  the  Great  Coal  Strike  — How  to 
Blot  Out  the  Curse. 

&L   (SVeVrfS^ 

TGOROUS  opposition  of  the 
liquor-dealers  to  the  temper- 
ance movement  is  natural,  and 
to  be  expected,  for  we  war 
against  their  pecuniary  inter- 
ests; and  if  you  touch  some 
men  in  the  pocket,  you  touch 
them  where  they  live.  Were  these 
men  to  exhibit  at  their  places  of  busi- 
ness a  truthful  signboard,  it  would 
read :  "  Delirium  tremens,  fever,  dis- 
ease, pauperism,  crime,  redness  of  eyes,  wounds  without 
cause,  rags,  wretchedness,  despair,  and  death,  FOR  SALE 

HERE." 

That  would  be  a  truthful  sign,  but  it  would  injure  their 
business    more   than    all    the    temperance    organizations   in 

597 


598 


AX  HOXEST  ADVERTISEMENT. 


existence.  The  liquor-seller  will  not  even  set  up  in  his  bar- 
room a  specimen  of  his  work ;  he  puts  up  blinds  at  the  doors 
and  screens  at  the  windows  to  hide  his  work  from  the  passers 
by ;  but  the  shoemaker  and  the  tailor  exhibit  their  work  in 
their  windows,  and 
show  what  they  have 
made  out  of  the  raw 
material. 

The  tailor,  when 
he  has  finished  a  new 
coat,  places  it  where 
it  may  be  seen  by  the 
greatest  number  of 
customers;  when  the  fl$;MBBDBi 
shoemaker  has  fin- 
ished a  first-class  pair 
of  boots,  he  places 
them  in  his  window, 
because  the  exhibi- 
tion tends  to  increase 
his  trade.  With  the 
liquor-seller  it  is  quite 
different.  He  is 
ashamed  of  his  fin- 
ished work ;  with  him 
the  raw  material  is 
always  worth  more  than  the  finished  article.  Were  he 
to  exhibit  that,  he  would  lose  his  trade.  No  wonder  he  is 
ashamed  to  exhibit  his  work. 

In  the  world's  great  exhibitions  you  have  seen  finished 
articles  of  nearly  every  manufacture,  from  a  tooth-pick 
to  a  locomotive,  and  the  exhibitors  were  anxious  to  ex- 
plain the  method  of  manufacture,  or  the  texture  of  the 


A  TRUTHFUL   SIGN. 


A  GOOD  SPECIMEN. 


599 


woven  fabrics.  Almost  every  conceivable  specimen  of  man's 
ingenuity  and  skill  was  there  represented,  —  from  the  raw 
material  to  the  finished  article.  But  there  was  one  specimen 
of  manufacture  absent.  I  remember,  a,t  the  Mechanics' Fair 
in  Boston,  many  years  ago,  being  struck  with  this  fact,  and 
on  mentioning  it  to  Deacon 
Moses  Grant,  he  proposed  to 
apply  to  the  managers  for 
permission  to  exhibit  a  speci- 
men of  the  liquor-seller's 
work.  He  knew  a  man  who 
was  once  worth  $40,000,  who 
was  then  debased  and  ruined 
through  drink,  who  agreed 
for  a  dollar  a  day  to  stand  in 
that  fair  with  a  label  in  front 
of  him,  which  read  as  follows : 
"I  was  once  worth  140,000. 
I  was  once  respected  and 
respectable.  I  once  moved  in 
good  society.  Such  things  as 
I  am  now  are  made  out  of  such 


I  WAS  ONCE  WORTH  $40.000. 

WAS  ONCf  RESPECTED  AND  RESPfCfABLf.' 

I  ONCE  MOVED 


SUCH  TH/N&S  AS  f  AM    NOW  ARE  MAD£ 
OUT  or  SUCK  MEN  A^  I  ONcr   WAS." 


OX    EXHIBITION. 


men  as  I  once  was.  Please 
give  us  a  premium  for  one  of 
the  best  specimens  to  be 
found  in  this  city."  But  they  would  not  admit  him !  The 
liquor-seller  is  ashamed  of  the  results  of  his  infamous  trade. 
A  boy  was  passing  by  a  liquor-shop,  and  seeing  a  drunken 
man  lying  in  the  gutter  in  front  of  the  saloon,  knocked  at  the 
door,  and  said :  "  Mister,  your  sign  's  fell  down ;  "  and  the 
angry  liquor-seller  chased  him  half  round  the  square. 

See  the  results  of  this  traffic  in  its  true  colors,  placed  so 
full  and  fair  before  you  that  the  very  youngest  cannot  err  in 


600  A  REMINISCENCE  OF  FIFTY  YEARS  AGO. 

their  decision.  A  liquor-seller  had  a  tavern  undergoing  re- 
pairs. One  day  a  boy  came  running  to  his  mother,  crying  out, 
"  Mother,  mother  !  "  "  What  is  it,  my  boy  ?  "  "  Mr.  Pooled 
tavern  is  finished,  mother."  "  How  do  you  know,  my  dear  ?  " 
inquired  the  mother.  u  Why,  I  saw  a  man  come  out  drunk  ! " 
Now,  that  is  the  legitimate  fruit  of  the  dram-shop. 

We  do  not  fear  opposition.  But  there  is  that  which  is 
worse  than  opposition,  and  more  to  be  dreaded,  —  the  uni- 
versal apathy  that  exists  in  reference  to  drunkenness.  There 
is  no  evil  tolerated  and  borne  with  as  the  evil  of  drunkenness. 
There  is  none  which  is  so  mischievous ;  and  yet  it  is  per- 
mitted to  remain.  Did  hydrophobia  produce  one  half  of  the 
fearful  results  that  drink  does,  there  would  not  be  a  living 
dog  left  in  the  whole  country ;  the  pet  dog  of  the  lady,  the 
hunting  dog  of  the  sportsman,  without  reference  to  owner- 
ship or  value,  would  be  promptly  destroyed. 

If  there  is  aught  producing  disease  and  death  in  your 
city,  you  remove  it,  and  remove  it  instantly,  at  whatever  cost. 
I  remember  well,  when  cholera  entered  the  city  of  New  York 
in  1832,  what  care  was  taken,  what  efforts  were  made  to  check 
its  progress.  Bonfires  of  tar-barrels,  blazing  at  the  corners  of 
the  streets,  shed  a  lurid  glare  over  the  awful  scene.  Chloride 
of  lime  was  used  in  fumigating  and  whitewashing  the  lanes  and 
alleys  and  was  thrown  over  the  piles  of  coffins  as  they  were 
taken  to  the  "  Potter's  Field ; "  all  large  assemblies  were  for- 
bidden ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  angel  of  death  had  spread  his 
broad,  black  wings  over  the  entire  city  and  its  doomed  popu- 
lation. Men  prayed  and  mourned  before  God.  They  did 
more  than  that.  They  were  up  and  doing,  and  removing,  as 
far  as  possible,  at  whatever  hazard,  and  at  whatever  cost,  the 
cause  of  the  disease.  Physicians  demanded  that  no  fruit 
should  be  eaten,  nor  green  vegetables  used.  The  authorities 
entered  the  market  places,  seized  all  the  pine-apples,  green 


PROTECTING  A  DISHONORABLE   TRADE.  601 

corn,  and  vegetables,  and  carted  them  away  and  tumbled 
them  into  the  river,  for  the  good  of  society.  What  a  sum- 
mary proceeding !  some  might  say.  But  was  it  not  right  ? 
A  man  might  eat  himself  into  spasmodic  cholera  in  six  hours 
if  he  chose,  and  the  law  would  not  interfere  with  him ;  but 
the  law  did  prevent  him  from  tempting  his  weak  and  ignorant 
neighbor  to  purchase  in  the  market  that  which  might  kill 
him. 

That  was  right ;  but  what  do  you  do  with  drink,  the  cause 
of  disease,  death,  crime,  and  poverty  ?  You  build  bridewells, 
almshouses,  penitentiaries,  and  erect  the  gallows  for  the 
effect.  But  what  do  you  with  the  cause  ?  You  support  and 
patronize  it,  legislate  for  it,  protect  it  by  law,  and  make  it 
honorable.  A  man  who,  when  sober,  is  inoffensive  and  will 
not  injure  anyone,  but  when  drunk  is  a  perfect  fiend,  a  devil, 
fire  in  his  blood,  fire  in  his  brain,  enters  a  dram-shop  sober, 
and  reels  out  on  the  streets  drunk,  ripe  for  every  mischief. 
He  goes  home  and  beats  out  the  brains  of  his  wife.  You 
apprehend  him,  try  him,  and  condemn  him  to  death ;  and  if 
he  be  not  pardoned,  or  the  sentence  commuted,  he  is  hanged. 
And  pray  what  do  you  do  to  the  man  who  sold  him  the  liquor  ? 
You  license  him.  What  do  you  do  with  the  shop  where  he 
obtained  the  liquor?  You  protect  it  by  law.  What  do  you 
do  with  the  business  ?  You  stamp  it  with  the  impress  of  re- 
spectability. You  make  it  honorable. 

You  pay  for  that  traffic  more  than  you  pay  for  religion, 
education,  and,  I  believe,  government,  all  put  together.  If 
you  will  not  believe  this,  just  investigate.  Why,  I  believe 
you  would  save  money  to  pension  the  liquor-sellers,  giving 
them  a  handsome  sum  to  live  upon,  on  condition  that  they 
close  their  saloons  and  sell  no  more  drink.  Mr.  P.  T.  Barnum 
once  said  in  Tripler  Hall,  before  an  audience  of  about  four 
thousand  people  :  — 


602  A  REMARKABLE   OFFER. 

"  I  am  ready  to  make  an  agreement  with  the  mayor,  and 
aldermen,  and  city  council  of  New  York,  that,  if  they  will  give 
me  the  money  expended  in  intoxicating  liquor  in  this  city,  I 
will  pay  the  whole  pauper  tax ;  I  will  give  a  barrel  of  flour 
to  every  family ;  I  will  give  a  library  of  a  hundred  volumes 
to  every  family  ;  I  will  give  as  handsome  a  suit  of  broadcloth 
as  can  be  picked  out  to  every  man  and  boy,  and  a  handsome 
silk  dress  to  every  woman  and  girl  in  the  city,  old  or  young, 
rich  or  poor,  little  or  big  ;  I  will  give  one  million  dollars  for 
the  privilege ;  and  I  will  give  the  whole  city  a  free  admission 
to  the  American  Museum ;  and  then  I  find  that  I  should  clear 
about  eight  million  dollars  by  the  transaction." 

There  is  a  disposition  on  the  part  of  some  people  to  dis- 
believe the  facts  brought  forward  by  temperance  reformers. 
Give  to  such  a  one  a  list  of  the  crimes,  diseases,  pauperism, 
lunacy,  and  loss  of  life  and  property,  caused  by  drunkenness ; 
put  into  his  hands  some  of  the  elaborate  statistics  issued  on 
this  subject ;  give  him  such  a  paper,  and  as  soon  as  he  per- 
ceives its  object,  —  "  Pooh,  pooh,  why  this  is  a  temp —  fanati- 
cal sort  of  statement."  Fanaticism,  fanaticism  !  how  it  does 
hurt  some  people.  The  softer  a  man's  head  is,  the  easier  is 
he  impressed  with  this  word.  It  is  a  bugbear  to  frighten 
people.  A  man  once  said  that  this  opposition  to  the  drink 
was  pure,  clear,  unadulterated  fanaticism.  I  said :  "  What 
do  you  mean  by  fanaticism  ?  "  "  Why,  I  mean  fanaticism, 
that 's  what  I  mean."  "  Yes,  but  what  is  fanaticism  ? " 
"  Fanaticism,  —  it 's  —  well ;  fanaticism  is,  —  oh,  you  know 
what  fanaticism  is  as  well  as  I  do."  He  did  not  understand 
the  meaning  of  the  word  that  scared  him. 

The  people  of  these  United  States  paid  to  one  hundred 
and  sixty  thousand  retail  liquor-dealers  in  1874,  according  to 
the  statement  of  Dr.  Young,  chief  of  the  Bureau  of  Statistics, 
1800,000,000,  besides  1400,000,000  for  the  crime,  and  poverty, 


HOW  PAUPERS  AND  CRIMINALS  ARE  MADE.  603 

and  the  huge  machinery  required  to  take  care  of  the  results 
of  their  traffic,  —  and  for  what  ?  Not  for  bread,  but  for  that 
which  makes  every  loaf  of  bread  dearer  to  every  consumer. 
Not  for  meat,  but  for  that  which  decreases  the  business  in  all 
healthful  food.  Not  for  houses  and  furniture,  because  it  is 
notorious  that  the  best  customers  not  only  waste  and  destroy 
houses  arid  furniture,  but  are  content  to  live  in  hovels.  Not 
for  anything  that  prolongs  life,  but  for  that  which  notoriously 
shortens  it.  Not  for  the  support  of  schools  and  colleges,  but 
for  what  cripples  them.  Not  for  foreign  or  home  travel,  but 
for  what  prevents  it.  Not  for  making  travel  a  secure  delight, 
but  for  that  which  endangers  it.  Not  for  that  which  lessens 
or  equalizes  taxation,  but  for  that  most  disheartening  result, 
the  enlargement  of  prisons,  the  multiplying  of  places  for  the 
helplessness,  the  needless  sickness,  the  preventible  misfor- 
tunes, the  unprincipled  vagrancy,  the  brutal  crimes,  that  all 
the  property  you  and  I  possess  has  to  be  levied  on  to  pay  for. 
.ft  scatters  no  beauty  or  blessing  in  a  single  home,  for  it 
aienaces  and  blights  all  things  lovely  that  it.  touches.  It 
^ives  no  cool  brain  and  just  judgment,  for  it  is  an  admitted 
foe  to  these.  It  hinders  no  legislative  wrongs,  but  is  a  factor 
in  most  of  them.  It  holds  back  no  murderous  hand,  but 
nerves  it ;  it  helps  nowhere  in  paying  debts,  but  is  always 
and  everywhere  the  frustrator  of  honest  intentions. 

Fancy  the  building  of  jails,  almshouses,  lunatic  asylums, 
reformatories,  and  a  score  of  kindred  receptacles  for  the  re- 
sults of  the  grain  trade,  the  builders'  trade,  the  coal  trade,  or 
any  other  business  on  the  earth  but  this.  Think  of  support- 
ing a  large  body  of  men,  at  the  public  expense,  to  take  care 
of  the  refuse  and  do  the  work  of  scavengers  for  any  business 
on  earth  but  this.  And  yet  you  know  that  the  principal  busi- 
ness of  the  police  force  is  taking  care  of  the  results,  carrying 
away,  out  of  sight,  the  refuse  of  the  liquor  shops.  Mr.  Chand- 


604      HOW  JAILS  AND  ALMSHOUSES  MAY  BE  CLOSED. 

ler,  formerly  editor  of  the  "  United  States  Gazette,"  said, 
"  Close  the  grog-shops,  and  all  the  poverty  could  be  supported 
by  the  present  existing  private  charities,  and  in  this  republic 
there  need  not  be  an  almshouse."  Yes,  close  the  liquor-shops, 
and  three  fourths  of  our  prisons,  penitentiaries,  reformatories, 
and  houses  of  correction  might  be  converted  into  colleges, 
institutions  of  learning,  or,  at  any  rate,  make  room  for  some- 
thing more  profitable  to  the  community.  Close  the  liquor- 
shops,  and  the  police  would  have  little  to  do.  Where  do  they 
seek  for  the  burglar,  the  thief,  the  garrotter !  Where  but  in 
these  hotbeds  of  crime,  the  liquor-shops  ?  Think  of  hunting 
for  criminals  in  any  other  place !  Inquire,  if  you  will,  of  every 
warden  of  every  prison  in  the  country,  and  you  receive  the 
same  reply:  "Most  —  yes,  nearly  all  —  of  the  crime  directly 
results  from  drink." 

A  year  before  the  Maine  law  was  passed,  the  mayor  of 
Portland  proposed  that  the  House  of  Correction  should  be 
enlarged.  On  the  next  1st  of  April  he  told  the  Common 
Council  that  they  need  not  enlarge  it,  for  it  was  empty  and 
to  let,  not  having  a  prisoner  in  it ;  that  from  the  25th  of 
October  to  the  last  of  March  there -had  not  been  one  commit- 
ment. In  every  prison  I  have  visited,  I  find  the  same  state- 
ments, here  and  abroad.  The  governor  of  York  Castle,  Eng- 
land, told  me,  "  If  it  was  not  for  the  drink,  we  should  have 
nothing  to  do  here."  One  of  the  officers  of  Bodmin  jail,  in 
Cornwall,  told  me,  "  If  it  was  not  for  the  drink,  we  should  be 
empty  here."  The  same  in  hospitals,  insane  retreats,  "  If  it 
was  not  for  the  drink." 

But  come  up  from  these  things,  which  are  mostly  outside 
and  material,  and  step  higher.  Try  to  reckon,  if  you  can,  the 
sum  of  physical  pain  that  runs  along  the  exquisite  nerves  of 
sensation  from  this  business.  Number,  if  you  can,  the  awful 
surprises  that  come  to  those  within  the  range  of  its  temp- 


IN   A   MURDERER'S   CELL. 


605 


tations  and  specious  invitations.  In  a  county  in  New  York,  a 
man  of  worth,  whose  only  failing  seemed  to  be  occasional 
intoxication,  was  tempted  to  drink  in  one  of  these  places. 
From  one  drink  to  another  he  continued,  until,  in  the  madness 


A    TERRIBLE   REALITY. 

of  it,  he  went  home,  and,  that  evening,  struck  his  wife  blows 
that  killed  her.  He  was  at  once  arrested,  and  his  first  waking 
from  that  madness  was  to  open  his  eyes  on  prison  bars. 

"  Why,  where  am  I  ?     Is  this  a  jail  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  was  the  keeper's  reply. 

"What  am  I  here  for?" 


606  CONFESSIONS  OF  LIQUOR-SELLERS. 

"  Do  n't  you  know  ?  " 

"I  know  I  was  never  in  a  jail  before.  Have  I  been  kick- 
ing up  a  row  ?  What  am  I  here  for  ?  tell  nie." 

"  You  are  here  for  murder." 

"  What,  have  I  killed  somebody  ?  " 

"  You  have." 

" Oh !  what  shall  I  do?     Tell  me,  does  my  wife  know  it?" 

"  Why,  it  is  your  wife  you  have  murdered." 

He  fell  in  a  dead  faint,  and,  though  the  keeper  of  that 
prison  was  licensed  to  sell,  and  the  sheriff  owned  the  liquor- 
shop  where  he  obtained  the  drink,  they  were  not  even  blamed, 
and  the  prisoner  must  pay  the  penalty,  and  bear  the  guilt 
alone.  You  and  I  know  that  such  things  are,  alas,  not  rare. 
I  do  not  say  it  was  unjust  that  the  man  should  be  held 
responsible  for  his  own  acts,  but  what  other  business  in  this 
country  could  be  fruitful,  yes,  fruitful,  of  such  results  ? 

Again,  can  you  compute  the  number  of  true  and  good  wo- 
men, who,  in  tears  and  shame  and  unremitting  toil,  in  broken 
health  and  unutterable  sadness,  fade,  suffer,  and  die,  because 
those  they  love  can  get  intoxicating  liquors  so  easily  ?  Can 
you  count  the  little  ones  who  can  never  look  back  to  a  rosy 
mist  of  happy  childhood,  who  can  never  lean,  in  life's  battles, 
on  fair  memories  of  pleasant  homes,  but  who  early  gain  that 
dreadful  condition — to  expect  nothing  better?  Oh,  it  is  a 
dreadful  business !  the  more  profit,  the  more  damage  to  the 
people.  Even  liquor-sellers  acknowledge  it  to  be  an  evil.  A 
liquor-seller  in  Glasgow  said  to  me,  after  I  had  spoken  of  the 
traffic  very  sharply,  "  It  is  all  true ;  and,  although  I  am  en- 
gaged in  the  business,  I  wish  whiskey  was  five  guineas  a  gal- 
lon, and  every  smuggler  hung." 

Many  a  man  engaged  in  the  trade  has  told  me,  "  It  is  a  bad 
business ; "  or,  "  It  is  not  the  best  business  that  ever  was ; " 
or,  "  I  would  like  to  get  out  of  it,  but  I  cannot  make  the  sac- 


AN  INFAMOUS  BUSINESS.  607 

rifice."  It  is  not  considered  a  very  respectable  business. 
Suppose  I  tell  you,  "  There  is  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  largely 
engaged  in  manufacturing  or  mining."  "  Ah,"  you  say,  "in- 
deed ?  "  "  Yes,  he  has  had  property  left  to  him  by  his  wife, 
and  he  is  very  largely  connected  with  the  business,  and  draws 
an  income  from  it ;  but  it  does  not  necessarily  detract  from 
his  usefulness."  "  No,"  you  say,  "  I  suppose  not."  But  if  I 
tell  you  that  the  reverend  gentleman  is  largely  engaged  in 
the  liquor  business,  you  say,  "  That  is  rather  inconsistent." 
That  is  just  what  we  say.  And  now  if  it  is  inconsistent  for 
a  minister  to  be  engaged  in  drawing  revenue  from  this  busi- 
ness, if  it  is  a  business  in  which  a  Christian  cannot  be  engaged 
consistently,  —  at  any  rate  he  cannot  ask  God  to  bless  him  in 
putting  the  bottle  to  his  neighbor's  lips  (I  have  heard  men,  at 
family-worship,  pray  for  success  in  their  business ;  but  no 
liquor-seller  dares  ask  God's  blessing  on  his  trade),  —  then 
what  kind  of  business  is  it  ?  If  I  were  simply  to  give  my 
opinion  of  the  subject,  I  should  merely  say  of  the  liquor 
business,  that  I  hate  it ;  I  hate  it  with  a  perfect  hatred.  I 
love  to  hate  it ;  it  does  me  good  to  hate  it.  I  feel  that  when 
I  hate  it  I  am  doing  God  service,  and  I  expect  to  hate  it  as 
long  as  I  live ;  and  I  pray  God  to  give  me  an  everlastingly 
increasing  capacity  to  hate  it.  I  consider  it  to  be  a  useless 
business,  an  unutterably  mean  business,  an  intolerably  wicked 
business,  a  soul-destroying,  God-defying  business. 

I  stood  in  front  of  Newgate,  some  years  ago,  in  London, 
soon  after  the  body  of  the  wretched  Mobbs,  the  murderer,  was 
cut  down,  and  all  round,  in  the  beer-shops  and  gin-shops,  were 
crowds  of  poor,  miserable  wretches,  drinking  the  fiery  fluid. 
It  was  a  horrible  sight ;  and  I  was  told  by  a  gentleman  who 
knew  the  matter  perfectly,  "  These  men  have  been  driving  a 
better  business  since  five  o'clock  this  morning  than  they  have 
•any  other  morning  since  the  last  execution.  There  they  are, 
37 


608         AN  EMPTY  POCKET  WITH  SOMETHING  IN  IT. 

furnishing  more  victims  to  be  judicially  strangled  on  the 
gallows." 

The  trade  is  useless,  too.  It  benefits  nobody  but  the 
liquor-seller,  and  him  only  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view.  A 
curse  appears  to  rest  upon  the  trade;  it  does  not  seem  to 
thrive,  for  we  can  scarcely  find  a  fortune  ever  descending 
to  the  second  and  third  generations,  that  has  been  made  by 
dealing  out  intoxicating  liquors. 

A  man  once  said :  "  Why,  when  I  was  a  drinking  man  I 
had  an  empty  pocket  with  something  in  it  all  the  time." 
Somebody  said :  "  How  could  you  have  an  empty  pocket  with 
something  in  it  ?  "  "  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  had  a  big  hole  in  it, 
and  all  my  money  went  through  that  big  hole,  and  I  never 
could  keep  any  in  my  pocket."  Let  a  man  take  that  which 
he  expends  in  drink,  and  put  it  on  one  side ;  and  put  on  the 
other  side  all  the  enjoyment  he  has  received  from  it,  —  what 
then  ?  It  amounts  to  very  little.  These,  however,  are  small 
considerations  compared  to  some  others  that  might  be  urged. 
The  tendency  of  strong  drink  is  to  brutalize  men,  and  of  that 
I  have  had  abundant  proof  from  observation  and  from  reading 
the  newspapers. 

One  Sunday,  in  London,  between  twelve  and  one  o'clock, 
I  went  down  to  the  locality  known  as  Seven  Dials.  I  went 
to  see  what  could  be  seen  there.  There  were  crowds  of  peo- 
ple in  the  street.  Many  persons  were  surrounding  an  earnest 
temperance  reformer,  who  was  telling  them  some  wholesome 
truths.  I  looked  at  the  people.  There  was  one  woman  who 
seemed  to  me  to  have  but  one  garment  on  her.  It  was  a  cold 
day.  She  stood  shivering  in  the  cold,  but  she  had  threepence 
in  her  hand,  watching  the  door  of  "  The  Grapes."  I  saw  men 
hanging  about,  licking  their  white  lips,  —  and  their  tongues 
were  as  white  as  their  lips,  —  waiting  for  those  doors  to  open, 
at  one  o'clock.  I  saw  boys  and  girls  of  fifteen  years  of  agf 


PENNIES  OF  THE  POOR.  609 

in  the  most  wretched  state  of  poverty.  My  heart  ached  as  I 
saw  those  crowds  waiting  for  the  public-houses  to  open,  all 
having  their  few  pence  clenched  in  their  hands.  The  temper- 
ance reformer  who  spoke  to  them  said :  "  Why,  some  of  you 
have  n't  got  any  shirts  on,  and  yet  you  are  going  to  pay  the 
money  that  should  go  to  buy  some  into  the  brewery  and  into 
the  public-house,  and  what  is  the  consequence  ?  The  conse- 
quence is  that  you  are  shirtless,  and  that  the  people  who 
ought  to  be  engaged  in  supplying  what  you  need  are  without 
employment  because  the  warehouses  are  overstocked.  Why 
don't  you  buy,  and  make  a  market  for  linen,  shirting,  and 
leather,  instead  of  making  a  market  for  beer,  when  you  get 
nothing  but  misery  from  it."  I  stood  and  looked  at  the 
crowd,  and  then  looked  all  over  the  front  of  that  public- 
house  ;  and  I  tell  you  (I  speak  my  own  sentiments)  that,  as 
[  looked  and  there  saw  the  names, 


TRUMAN,  HANBURY,  AND  BUXTON. 


my  thoughts  were  as  follows :  I  shall  answer  for  what  I  say 
in  the  day  of  judgment,  but,  so  help  me  God,  in  my  extrem- 
ity I  would  not  have  my  name  on  such  a  house  for  all  the 
money  spent  on  drink,  and  that  is  .£140,000,000  sterling  a 
year.  After  that  I  could  n't  sleep  nights.  It  is  to  me  the 
most  astounding  thing  in  England,  that  men  should  get  their 
living,  and  make  money,  and  grow  rich  out  of  the  pennies  of 
the  poor. 

There  are  some  other  reasons  why  I  hate  the  trade  and 
wage  war  against  it.  We  have  a  great  command,  "Thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all 
thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength,  and  with  all  thy  mind, 


610  UNAVAILING  PETITIONS. 

and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself."  "  On  these  two  command- 
ments hang  all  the  law  and  the  prophets."  My  profes- 
sions of  love  to  God  are  not  worth  a  fig,  unless  they  beget 
in  me  a  love  for  my  neighbor.  Who  is  my  neighbor  ?  The 
liquor-seller  is  my  neighbor,  and  I  am  bound  to  love  him, 
not  his  trade ;  I  must  love  even  the  poor  wretch  who  said  that 
he  would  cut  my  throat  if  he  had  to  live  ten  years  to  do  it. 
In  pure  love  to  the  liquor-seller,  then,  I  can  attack  his  busi- 
ness with  all  the  power  I  have.  I  have  heard  some  people 
say :  The  liquor-seller  has  no  conscience,  no  benevolence,  and 
no  sympathy.  This  is  all  wrong.  The  liquor-seller  has  a 
conscience,  he  has  benevolence  and  sympathy.  If  a  man 
should  fall  down  in  front  of  his  establishment  and  break  a 
limb,  he  would,  no  doubt,  run  out,  lift  him  into  an  easy  posi- 
tion, wipe  the  drops  from  his  brow,  and  help  him  to  the  best 
of  his  ability.  Some  of  them  have,  no  doubt,  given  according 
to  their  ability  to  the  relief  of  the  distressed  by  flood  or  fire. 

But  take  such  a  man  in  his  business,  and  where  is  his 
sympathy  and  benevolence  towards  the  wretched  victim  of 
his  own  trade  ?  His  nefarious  business  comes  between  him 
and  all  sympathy  for  his  fellow-men.  Let  a  wife  or  a  child, 
cry  to  him,  "  Don't  serve  my  husband  or  my  father  with 
drink,"  nine  out  of  every  ten  would  serve  him  if  he  had  the 
money  to  pay  for  it.  I  said  this  at  Edinburgh,  and  I  was 
astonished  at  the  letters  that  came  from  wives  who  had  been 
insulted  and  abused  when  going  to  plead  for  their  husbands. 
One  woman  was  taken  up  for  a  breach  of  the  peace,  simply 
because  she  had  knelt  down  in  a  saloon  and  prayed  for  her 
husband,  who  was  in  an  inner  room. 

Let  me  suppose  that  I  went  into  one  of  your  saloons.  I 
shall  not  do  so ;  but  suppose  I  should,  though  I  don't  know 
that  I  like  to  suppose  the  case.  I  feel  like  the  negro  who  was 
arguing  with  another,  and  said  to  him  :  — 


A  SENSITIVE  DARKEY. 


611 


"Now,  Cuff,  if  we  want  to  'lustrate  dis  yer  point,  an' 
bring  it  out  ob  de  dark  profundity  in  which  it  is  evaporating 
itself,  we  shall  hab  to  s'pose  a  case." 

"  Very  well,  s'pose  away  den." 

"Now,  s'pose  you  was 
down  at  Brigham's  saloon 
last  night." 

"  I  war  n't  dar." 

"  But  s'pose  you  was." 

"Tell    you,    I    war  n't  1'i" 
dar." 

"Well,  you  needn't  git 
mad  about  it,  or  else  we 
shall  hab  to  drop  de  argu- 
ment, an'  let  it  sink  into 
de  profundity  from  which 
it  was  gwine  to  evaporate 
itself." 

"  Well,  den,  s'pose  away ; 
but  don't  touch  my  moral 
character." 

"  Well,  den,  s'pose  you  w as  at  Brigham's  saloon  last 
night." 

"  You  say  dat  agajn,  nigger,  an'  I  '11  knock  you  down. 
I  won't  let  any  man  s'pose  I  go  into  a  place  whar  dey  sell 
liquor." 

Now,  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  I  would  enter  a  liquor- 
shop  ;  but  suppose  I  should,  for  the  sake  of  the  argument. 

Now,  suppose  the  proprietor  had  read  the  history  of  my 
life  from  twelve  to  twenty-five,  a  life  of  almost  unmitigated 
misery  and  privation ;  suppose  he  knew  that  my  prospects 
are  now  bright ;  that  the  dark  and  gloomy  pall  that  hung 
•>ver  the  drunkard's  grave  is  removed,  and  that  I  bathe  in 


"YOU   SAY  DAT  AGAIN,    NIGGEIJ." 


(312  TWO   QUESTIONS. 

the  bright  beams  of  the  star  of  hope  that  dawned  years  ago 
upon  my  pathway.  Suppose  he  knows  that  in  those  dark 
days  none  loved  me,  none  esteemed  me  ;  that  I  was  homeless, 
friendless  ;  that  now  I  have  a  home,  a  beloved  wife,  an  affec- 
tionate circle  of  loved  ones.  Suppose  he  knows  that  I  am  a 
member  of  a  Christian  church,  in  good  standing  with  my 
brethren.  He  knows  that  if  I  drink  that  glass  of  brandy  it 
will  make  my  name  infamous,  a  by-word,  a  reproach,  a  loath- 
ing, a  scorn  in  the  community ;  that  it  would  break  the  heart 
of  my  wife,  and  bring  sorrow  to  all  who  care  for  me ;  that  it 
would  ruin  me,  body  and  soul,  for  time  and  for  eternity ;  how 
many  liquor-sellers  are  there,  who,  knowing  all  that,  would 
refuse  to  give  me  the  brandy  to-morrow  morning  ?  That  is  a 
question  I  don't  answer,  but  I  will  ask  another.  How  many 
saloon-keepers  are  there  who  would  pay  money  to  bring  it  to 
pass,  and  pay  more  money  to  set  the  telegraph  wires  to  work  ? 
"Aha!  Gough,  the  temperance  advocate,  who  spoke  on 
temperance  one  night,  was  drunk  the  next  day!  Ha,  ha, 
ha !  "  How  many  are  there  who  would  chuckle,  and  laugh, 
and  rub  their  hands,  to  see  me  cursing,  staggering,  and  reel- 
ing through  the  streets  with  a  broken-hearted  wife  at  my 
heels?  That  is  another  question  I  do  not  answer;  but  there 
is  not  a  saloon-keeper  in  the  country  I  would  trust,  not  that 
they  hate  me  as  an  individual,  but  as  an  advocate  of  temper- 
ance, and  an  enemy  to  their  trade.  There  is  no  traffic  under 
heaven  that  will  beget  a  spirit  of  malice  in  the  heart  so 
quickly  as  the  traffic  in  intoxicating  liquors,  and  that  is  one 
reason  why  I  hate  it. 

The  Rev.  A.  Wallace  of  Edinburgh  was  going  through  a 
street  in  that  city  one  day,  when  he  noticed  a  fine,  stalwart 
young  man  standing  in  front  of  a  public-house  with  two  or 
three  of  his  companions,  and  a  young  woman  was  leaning 
upon  his  arm,  having  a  fine  boy  in  her  arms.  "  John,"  she 


A  WIFE'S  PLEA. 


613 


said,  "  come  home  ;  the  fire  is  burning  brightly,  for  I  got  all 
ready  for  you."  She  was  a  pretty  little  woman,  and  she 
looked  and  pleaded  in  her  husband's  face.  As  a  last  resort, 
she  put  the  boy  into  his  arms,  and  the  boy  crowed  with 
delight.  He  took  him  in  his  arms.  His  wife  put  her  arm 
through  his,  her  face  glistening  with  satisfaction;  and  they 
were  walking  away,  when  the  publican  put  out  his  head,  "  John, 
John  !  Don't  be  soft,  John.  Don't  be  soft."  And  the  man 

looked  for  a  moment,  and, 
with  misery  in  his  face,  he 
put  the  boy  into  the  arms 
of     his    wife.       Said     she, 
"Don't        go." 
"Stand   off,"  said 
he,  and,  throwing 
down    half-a- 
crown  on  the 
flags,  walked 
into       the 
liquor-shop. 

We  are  not 
in  the  habit 
of  realizing 
the  terrible 


JOHN,  COME   HOME,  THE   FIKE  IS  BUKNING  BKIGHTLY. 

evil  of  drunkenness  unless  we  are  brought  face  to  face  with 
it.  A  person  once  said  to  me  :  "  I  have  sold  liquor  for  ten 
years,  and  I  have  not  seen  half  that  you  talk  about."  "  No, 
sir,"  said  I,  "  because  you  do  not  desire  to  see  it ;  you  do  not 
go  where  it  is."  If  I  were  to  take  a  gun,  and  fire  across  a 
river  into  the  town  opposite,  I  might  fire  my  gun,  enjoy  the 
flash,  and  hear  the  report ;  it  would  be  all  excitement  to  me. 
Some  one  comes  across  the  river  and  cries :  "  Stop !  don't 
fire  that  gun  any  more  ?"  "Why  should  I  not  fire  the  gun 


614  REFORMING   "FROM  WITHIN  OUTWARDS." 

if  I  please ? "  "I  have  come  from  the  other  side,  and  dead 
men  lie  in  the  streets  there,  women  are  mourning  over  the 
bodies  of  their  husbands,  children,  with  hands  dabbled  in 
blood,  are  seeking  among  those  that  strew  the  streets  for  a 
father."  "  But,  sir,  I  have  fired  eight  or  ten  times>  and  have 
not  seen  all  you  talk  about."  "  No,  sir,  because  you  did  not 
go  where  the  shot  struck." 

A  well-known  author  and  traveller,  in  the  winter  of  1874, 
came  to  places  in  the  West  where,  as  he  says,  "They  had 
been  swept  by  the  besom  of  the  crusading  women."  He 
could  not  obtain  his  glass  of  beer  easily,  and  so  he  tells  us 
that  "  there  is  more  drinking  among  loafers,  because  the  retail 
places  are  closed ; "  and  tells  us  that  "  the  root  of  the  evil  lies 
deeper ;  lies  in  the  neglect  in  the  training  of  children,  in  big- 
otry, in  narrowness,  etc. ; "  as  if  the  liquor  business  did  not 
produce  more  neglect  of  children,  more  selfish  ideas  of  man- 
hood, more  destruction  of  intellectual  culture,  more  hereditary 
disease,  than  any  other  trade  whatever.  He  says  we  must 
reform  "from  within  outwards," — by  the  way,  that  is  just 
the  thing  we  want  to  do,  keep  the  inside  of  our  being  from 
drink.  He  says,  not  reform  "  inward  from  outside  ;  "  then,  of 
course,  people  should  never  keep  the  skin  clean,  never  wash 
the  outside  of  the  body  to  assist  in  maintaining  internal 
health. 

But  will  intellect,  and  careful  training,  and  every  oppor- 
tunity of  culture  prevent  many  from  experiencing  the  utmost 
degradation  from  the  drink,  if  they  take  it  ?  Let  the  great 
army  of  those  who  have  graduated  from  the  highest  places, 
and  exalted  stations,  and  the  finest  culture,  who  have  passed 
into  the  ranks  of  the  intemperate,  and  died  the  drunkard's 
death,  answer.  David  Rittenhouse,  the  celebrated  astronomer, 
in  determining  the  position  and  size  of  the  stars,  found  that 
a  silk  fibre,  however  small,  would  not  only  cover  the  star,  but 


A  HARD  MASTER.  615 

so  much  of  the  heavens  that  the  star,  in  passing  the  glass, 
would  be  obscured  for  several  seconds.  The  finest  silk  fibre 
larger  than  a  star !  So  it  was  with  our  travelling  author. 
The  glass  of  beer  he  wanted  hid  all  this  shame,  and  blood, 
and  tears. 

The  money  value  of  churches,  chapels,  schools,  colleges, 
and  all  the  beneficent  corporations  of  this  wide  country,  would 
not  pay  the  nation's  drink  bill  for  one  year,  and  yet  many  of 
us  think  so  little  of  it.  It  is  no  strange  thing  to  find  people 
who  think  as  lightly  of  this  great  evil  as  Robert  Toombs  did 
of  civil  war,  when  he  said,  just  before  the  rebellion,  "  War ! 
why  it  is  just  a  word  of  three  letters."  Yes,  it  is  a  small 
word,  and  can  be  covered  with  your  pen  as  you  write  it. 
But  what  did  it  become  ?  Let  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Re- 
public tell  us  to-day. 

One  night,  in  the  middle  of  August,  1875,  there  was,  in 
the  coal  regions  of  Pennsylvania,  a  great  army  of  men  who 
received  the  first  wages  for  many  months.  The  long  strike 
was  ended  that  had  withdrawn  so  many  millions  of  wealth,  in 
production,  from  the  business  of  the  country;  the  pay-day 
gave  them  once  more  the  means  to  pay  some  of  their  accumu- 
lated debts,  and  put  more  comfort  into  the  squalor  of  their 
homes.  But  how  was  it?  The  press  of  this  country  rang 
with  accounts  of  the  pandemonium  into  which  these  mining 
towns  were  turned ;  the  destruction  of  property,  the  bloody 
encounters,  people  shutting  themselves  indoors  because  mur- 
der was  loose  and  life  was  not  safe.  Why?  Only  and  solely 
because  the  liquor  business  flourished  that  night.  Oh,  if  they 
had  only  struck  against  that  set  of  masters ! 

I  am  an  advocate  for  all  the  rights  of  the  workingman,  but 
I  believe  strikes,  as  a  general  thing,  are  blunders.  I  believe 
that  all  conflict  and  antagonism  between  labor  and  capital  is 
a  mistake,  but  with  all  my  heart  and  soul  I  advocate  a  uni- 


616  A  COMMENDABLE  STRIKE. 

versal,  unanimous,  and  persistent  strike  against  this  business. 
Yes,  strike  hard,  and  strike  home  ;  warring  not  with  men,  but 
against  a  demoralizing,  ruinous  traffic.  Strike  against  it  at 
home ;  strike  against  it  at  public  receptions ;  strike  at  the 
decanters  and  whiskey-flasks ;  strike  at  the  cut-glass  of  the 
moderate  drinker,  and  rum-jug  of  the  inebriate ;  strike  in  the 
name  of  justice,  purity,  and  humanity ;  strike  for  the  love  of 
country,  and  in  behalf  of  drunkards'  wives  and  children,  and 
the  poor  victims  of  this  miserable  trade ;  strike  against  it  at 
the  ballot-box,  in  your  churches,  at  your  family-altars,  and  in 
your  private  prayers.  Strike  till  you  die ;  and,  by  God's  help, 
we  shall  do  something  to  blot  out  the  most  awful  curse  of 
the  nineteenth  century. 


CHAPTER  XXXIL 


ANNIHILATION  OUR  WAR  CRY  —  FRUIT  OF  THE  DRAM-SHOP  — 
BRUTES   IN   HUMAN   FORM  —  THE   DAWN   OF   DAY. 

My  First  View  of  Niagara  Falls  —  "  Back  !  Back  for  your  Lives  "  —  Receiv- 
ing His  Just  Deserts  —  Moral  Suasion  —  A  Poor  Woman's  Story  —  A 
Brute  in  Human  Form  —  A  Mother's  Plea  —  "For  God's  Sake  Spare 
My  Child  !  "  —  The  Lowest  of  the  Low  —  Your  Money  and  Your  Life  — 
A  Mother's  Grief  —  A  Tour  of  Observation  after  Dark  —  What  I  Saw 
—  Dreadful  Scenes  in  a  Liquor  Shop  —  Pettifogging  Shysters  —  Blood- 
money  —  Trial  by  Jury  —  "  Did  You  Smell  It  ?  "  —  The  Patient  Old  Man 
and  His  Hay  —  A  Young  Man's  Story  —  A  Thrilling  Incident  —  Carrying 
Home  the  Dead  Body  of  His  Father — Temperance  Bitters  —  The  Jury 
and  the  Stolen  Bacon  —  A  Foregone  Conclusion  —  A  Corrupt  Judge  — 
Retributive  Justice  —  "  A  Bit  of  Bread,  Please,  for  I'm  Hungry "—  Pull- 
ing a  Tooth  by  Degrees  —  Steps  in  the  Right  Direction. 

HE  first  time  I  saw  Niagara 
Falls,   I    thought   a    parallel 
might  be  drawn  between  the 
stream,  rapids,  and  cataract, 
and  the  stream,  rapids,  and 
cataract   of    drunkenness. 
Above  the  Falls  of  Intemper- 
ance the  water  is  bright  and  smooth ; 
thousands  who  embark  on  that  placid 
stream,  as  it  glides  down  and  comes 
into  the  rapids,  are  swept   on  with 
fearful   rapidity,    and   sent   into   the 

gulf  at  the  rate  of  30,000,  40,000,  and  50,000  a  year,  a  fearful 
waste  of  human  life.  The  friends  of  humanity  see  this  ter- 
rible destruction ;  they  station  themselves  above,  and  cry  out 
to  the  people,  "  Back  !  back  for  your  lives  :  none  escape  who 

617 


618  "STOP  THAT  BALL!" 

get  into  these  rapids,  except  by  a  miracle.  Back,  back  fo? 
your  soul's  sake ;  for  no  drunkard  can  inherit  eternal  life.' 
And  they  keep  many  back.  Still  there  is  the  stream,  and,  in 
spite  of  every  effort,  the  embarkation  continues.  Men,  in  the 
pure  spirit  of  benevolence,  devise  means  to  rescue  those  who 
are  in  the  rapids,  and  they  construct  a  bridge  over  the  verge 
of  the  cataract.  They  save  many  of  the  poor,  battered, 
drowning,  shrieking  wretches  who  have  drifted  to  the  very 
edge  ;  they  set  them  on  the  bridge,  bind  up  their  wounds,  and 
send  them  up  the  stream  to  tell  others  how  they  felt  when 
they  were  in  the  rapids.  The  saved  ones  show  the  scars  on 
their  limbs,  and  they  keep  thousands  back.  Men  upon  the 
bridge  and  on  the  banks  plead  with  hands  uplifted ;  still  there 
is  a  stream  of  them  pouring  into  eternity.  Let  us  go  and 
see  what  is  the  matter.  Away  up  yonder  we  find  men  whose 
sole  business  is  to  push  others  into  the  stream,  or  to  entice 
them  to  embark  that  they  may  receive  the  hire  of  the  boats. 
Now,  then,  what  shall  we  do  ?  We  will  go  up  there,  and,  with 
the  might  and  power  that  God  has  given  us,  we  will  stop  that 
murderous  business.  And  that  is  common  sense. 

Our  work  has  been  very  much  like  a  game  of  ten-pins,  — 
if  you  will  allow  me  to  use  the  illustration.  We  have  been 
very  busy  in  picking  up  the  pins,  but  directly  we  set  them  up 
the  liquor-seller  has  begun  rolling  the  ball  to  knock  them 
down  again.  We  have  picked  up  the  pins,  and  said,  It  is 
good  work  to  set  them  up ;  but  the  ball  came  rolling  in 
again,  and  knocked  them  down  in  every  direction.  We  have 
buried  the  dead  wood,  and  new  pins  have  been  produced,  and 
the  game  has  gone  on.  But  the  cry  has  gone  forth,  it  has 
gathered  strength,  and  by  and  by  it  will  be  thundered  into 
the  ears  of  the  legislature,  Stop  that  ball !  And  when  pub- 
lic sentiment  cries  out,  it  will  be  obeyed,  and  the  ball  will  be 
stopped. 


I 

A  DESERVED  THRASHING.  619 

One  reason  why  we  desire  annihilation  of  this  traffic  is 
because  we  have  no  redress  or  protection.  Our  cry  is,  Pro- 
tection !  Protection  for  whom  ?  Protection  for  ourselves, 
and  for  our  wives  and  children,  who  have  it  not.  Why,  what 
protection  have  we  ?  A  poor  woman  went  into  a  dram-shop 
and  asked  the  liquor-seller  to  sell  her  husband  no  more  drink. 
The  thin  fingers  of  agony  had  traced  burning  characters  upon 
her  face,  and  in  her  misery  she  came  to  plead  for  her  husband. 
What  was  the  liquor-seller's  answer  ?  He  took  a  tumbler  and 
dipped  it  in  the  refuse  of  his  bar,  and  threw  the  contents  in 
her  face.  She  went  home  and  told  her  husband.  He  went  to 
that  man's  shop  —  drunkard  as  he  was,  he  felt  the  treatment 
of  his  wife  —  and  thrashed  him  so  that  he  did  not  stand  up  for 
two  days.  The  liquor-seller  prosecuted  the  drunkard,  and 
he  was  fined  five  dollars  and  costs  for  assault  and  battery. 
The  drunkard  then  turned  and  prosecuted  the  liquor-seller  for 
throwing  dirty  water  in  the  face  of  his  wife,  and  it  was  proved 
that  she  was  intruding  on  his  premises. 

Subject  as  we  all  are  to  the  evil  brought  upon  us,  we  have 
no  redress.  I  believe  that  temperance,  morality,  piety,  and 
virtue  are  in  the  majority  in  this  country,  and  that  drunken- 
ness, ruffianism,  and  debauchery  are  in  the  minority ;  yet  the 
majority  are  ruled,  and  trampled  under  foot,  by  the  rank, 
reeking,  reeling,  rotten  minority.  We  have  no  power  of  re- 
dress. Some  say :  "  You  must  try  moral  suasion.  This  is  a 
moral  movement,  and  I  do  not  believe  you  will  do  any  good 
but  by  moral  means."  What  are  moral  means?  Do  you  con- 
sider a  wholesome  law  a  moral  agency  ?  I  consider  the  pro- 
hibitory law  to  be  moral  suasion ;  and  I  believe  this :  That 
you  might  as  well  undertake  to  storm  Gibraltar  with  a  pop- 
gun, dam  Niagara  with  a  bundle  of  straw,  or  do  any  other 
impossible  thing,  as  to  move  a  man  by  moral  suasion  who  has 
no  moral  principle.  Go  to  these  men  with  moral  suasion,  and 


620  MORAL  SUASIONISTS. 

they  will  bow  and  smile  and  assent  to  all  you  say,  and  then, 
when  your  back  is  turned,  cry  out,  "What  a  contemptible 
pack  of  fools  these  men  are." 

A  young  man  once  advised  me  to  advocate  pure  moral 
suasion.  At  a  meeting  where  this  young  man  was  present,  I 
said  to  the  audience,  pointing  to  him :  "  Some  sa};  we  ought 
to  advocate  moral  suasion  exclusively.  Now  I  will  give  you 
a  fact.  Thirteen  miles  from  this  place  there  lived  a  woman, 
who  was  a  good  wife,  a  good  mother,  a  good  woman."  I  then 
related  her  story  as  she  told  it. 

"  My  husband  is  a  drunkard ;  I  have  worked,  and  hoped, 
and  prayed,  but  I  almost  give  up  in  despair.  He  went  away, 
and  was  gone  ten  days.  He  came  back  ill  with  the  small- 
pox. Two  of  the  children  took  it,  and  both  of  them  died.  I 
nursed  my  husband  through  his  long  illness,  —  watched  over 
him  night  and  day,  feeling  that  he  could  not  drink  again,  nor 
ever  again  abuse  me.  I  thought  he  would  remember  all  this 
terrible  experience.  Mr.  Leonard  kept  a  liquor  shop  about 
three  doors  from  my  house,  and,  soon  after  my  husband  was 
well  enough  to  get  out,  Mr.  Leonard  invited  him  in,  and  gave 
him  some  drink.  He  was  then  worse  than  ever.  He  now 
beats  me  and  bruises  me.  Before  I  was  married  I  worked 
in  a  factory,  and  I  never  dreamed  of  such  treatment  then. 
I  went  into  Mr.  Leonard's  shop  one  day,  nerved  almost  to 
madness,  and  said,  '  Mr.  Leonard,  I  wish  you  would  not  sell 
my  husband  any  more  drink.' 

"  '  Get  out  of  this,'  said  he ;  '  away  with  you.  This  is 
no  place  for  a  woman  ;  clear  out.' 

" 4  But  I  don't  want  you  to  sell  him  any  more  drink.' 

" '  Get  out,  will  you  ?  If  you  was  n't  a  woman,  I  'd  knock 
you  into  the  middle  of  the  street.' 

'"But,  Mr.  Leonard,  please  don't  sell  my  husband  any 
more  drink.' 


FOOTPRINTS  OF  SATAN.  621 

"  ;  Mind  your  own  business,  I  say.' 

" '  But  my  husband's  business  is  mine." 

" 4  Get  out !     If  you  don't  go,  I  '11  put  you  out.' 

"I  ran  out,  and  the  man  was  very  angry.  Three  days 
afterward  a  neighbor  came  in,  and  said,  'Mrs.  Tuttle,  your 
Ned 's  just  been  sent  out  of  Leonard's  shop,  so  drunk  that  he 
can  hardly  stand.' 

"  '  What,  my  child,  only  ten  years  old  ? ' 

" '  Yes.' 

"The  child  was  picked  up  in  the  street,  and  brought 
home,  and  it  was  four  days  before  he  got  about  again.  I 
then  went  into  Leonard's  shop,  and  said,  c  You  gave  my  boy 
Ned  drink.' 

" 4  Get  out  of  this,  I  tell  you,'  said  the  man. 

"  I  said,  4 1  don't  want  you  to  give  my  boy  drink  any 
more.  You  have  ruined  my  husband,  for  God's  sake  spare  my 
child,'  and  I  went  upon  my  knees,  and  tears  ran  down  my 
cheeks.  He  then  came  and  took  me  by  the  shoulders,  and 
kicked  me  out  doors." 

Then  said  I,  pointing  directly  to  my  friend,  "  Young  man, 
you  talk  of  moral  suasion;  suppose  that  woman  was  your 
mother,  what  would  you  do  to  the  man  that  kicked  her  ?  "  He 
jumped  right  off  his  seat,  and  said,  "  I  'd  kill  him."  "  That's 
moral  suasion,  is  it  ?  "  "  Yes,"  said  he,  repeating  it,  "I'd  kill 
him,  just  as  I  'd  kill  a  woodchuck  that  had  eaten  my  beans." 

Now  we  do  not  go  so  far  as  that ;  we  do  not  believe  in 
killing  or  persecution,  but  we  believe  in  prevention.  We  be- 
lieve the  people  demand  protection,  and  they  will  never  rest 
till  they  obtain  it. 

I  hate  the  traffic  because  of  its  hardening  influence.  I 
have  heard  it  proved  (I  am  not  going  to  prove  it,  you 
know,  and  I  will  not  say  what  I  believe  about  it)  that  a 
liquor-seller  is  worse  than  a  counterfeiter,  and  worse  than  a 


622  DREADFUL  BAR-ROOM  SCENES. 

highway  robber.  I  once  saw  a  picture  divided  in  two.  On 
one  side  was  a  representation  of  a  man  presenting  a  pistol  to 
another,  and  saying,  "Your  money  or  your  life ; "  on  the  other, 
a  liquor-seller  was  holding  out  a  glass  of  liquor  to  a  man,  with 
these  words,  "  Your  money  and  your  life ; "  and  underneath 
were  the  words,  "  Which  is  the  worst  ?  " 

A  mother  came  to  me  in  great  grief.  What  is  the  matter? 
"My  son,  my  eldest  born,  is  dying  from  delirium  tremens. 
He  is  my  only  son,  and  I  have  no  hope  of  him."  Suddenly 
she  rose,  and  her  eye  flashed  fire  as  she  said  :  "  I  could  have 
saved  him  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  man  who  keeps  the  liquor- 
shop  below.  My  son  was  sober  for  eighteen  months,  when  he 
went  to  do  some  work  at  that  saloon,  and  they  enticed  him  to 
drink  ;  and  now  he  's  dying.  Oh,  if  those  who  heard  you  last 
night  had  felt  as  I  did,  I  would  have  led  them,  and  we  'd  have 
torn  that  groggery  all  to  pieces." 

It  is  the  same  in  every  country  and  in  every  clime.  In  a 
certain  city  in  Great  Britain,  when  making,  with  a  friend,  a 
tour  of  observation  on  a  Saturday  night,  we  posted  ourselves 
opposite  a  liquor-shop,  and  stayed  there  about  three  quarters 
of  an  hour.  I  saw  women  go  in  with  babes  in  their  arms, 
looking  as  if  they  had  been  born  to  suffer  and  gasp  and  die,  — 
poor,  pallid,  rheum-eyed  wretches,  drinking  their  liquor. 
I  saw  little  bundles  of  rags,  standing  on  tiptoe  to  put  the 
money  on  the  counter,  and  receiving  liquor  in  exchange. 
One  little  girl  had  but  one  garment  on  her,  but  she  had  her 
bottle  filled,  and  took  it  away.  I  saw  everything,  from  a 
blacking-bottle  to  a  tin  pail,  brought  there  to  be  filled  with 
liquor.  One  man,  in  rags,  had  a  bottle  of  it,  and  then 
found  money  enough  for  a  glass,  —  half  of  this  he  drank  him- 
self, and  the  rest  he  gave  to  a  boy  about  eight  years  of  age. 
Said  I,  "What  are  they  giving  to  the  children  besides?" 
"  Oh,"  said  my  friend,  "they  give  them  little  bits  of  'sweety,' 


DEFENDERS   OF  THE  LIQUOR-SELLERS.  625 

or  candy,  to  encourage  them  to  come  to  their  shop."  Looking 
in  another  direction,  I  saw  the  proprietor.  There  he  was, 
with  his  coat  off,  dealing  out  the  liquor,  with  three  others,  as 
busy  as  they  could  be.  "  That  man,"  said  the  gentleman  who 
was  with  me,  "is  a  trustee  and  office-holder  in  one  of  the 
prominent  churches  in  our  city."  Is  there  any  trade  on  earth 
like  it? 

Moral  suasion  here  ?  Moral  suasion  is  a  very  good  thing, 
but  I  believe  the  devil  must  sometimes  be  rooted  out  by  main 
force,  and  then  you  will  have  a  vacuum  in  which  you  can  turn 
round  with  your  moral-suasion  lever.  Now  we  do  not  believe 
in  mob  law,  or  any  kind  of  persecution,  and  we  are  in  favor  of 
prevention  and  protection  by  prohibition ;  and  we  find  that 
we  cannot  be  protected  without  prohibition.  The  law  is  an 
honorable  profession,  and  there  are  many  men  who  are  an 
honor  to  it.  I  wish  to  say  nothing  against  the  law.  Some  of 
the  greatest  and  best  men  that  ever  lived  practised  law,  but 
there  is  a  set  of  miserable,  dirty,  pettifogging  shysters,  who 
would  take  a  fee  if  every  dollar  of  it  was  blistered  with  the 
widow's  tears,  and  that  }widow  their  own  mother ;  who  would 
take  a  fee  if  every  shilling  of  it  was  crusted  with  blood.  And 
these  are  the  men  who  generally  defend  the  liquor-seller,  — 
they  are  men  who  will  do  anything  for  money. 

For  instance :  Here  is  a  man  brought  up  for  selling  liquor. 
You,  as  a  witness,  may  swear  that  a  certain  man  went  into  his 
saloon  and  bought  brandy,  and  drank  eight  glasses,  and  you 
have  it  down  in  your  note-book,  "  10.15,  first  glass ;  10.30, 
second  glass;  11,  third  glass."  You  have  the  very  time 
marked,  and  you  can  prove  it  by  other  witnesses.  He  was 
sober  when  he  went  in,  and  so  drunk  when  he  came  out  that 
you  had  to  lift  him  into  a  cab  and  get  him  home.  Will  that 
prove  that  the  man  sold  him  liquor  ?  Oh,  rio !  Up  jumps 
Mr.  Lawyer  to  question  the  witness. 

38 


626 


EARNING  BLOOD  MONEY. 


"  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  I  ask  your  particular  attention 
while  I  propound  a  few  questions  to  the  witness.  If  I  un- 
derstood you,  sir,  you  have  distinctly  stated  that  this  indi- 
vidual procured  brandy  at  the  shop  of  my  respectable 
client?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  that  is  what  I  said." 

"  Now,    sir,   remember   you   are   under    oath ;    you   have 
taken  an  oath,  sir,  to  tell  the  truth 
and  nothing  but  the  truth.     You 
swear  that  this  in- 
dividual procured 
brandy  at  the  shop 
of  my  respectable 
client ;  now  I  ask 
you,   sir,  how    do 
you  know  that  it 
was  brandy?" 

"  Why,  he  ask- 
ed for  brandy." 

" Oh, ah!  I  have 
nothing  to  do  with 
what  he  asked  for. 
Gentlemen  of  the  A  ^TTIFOGGING  SHTSTEB. 

jury,  mark  the  equivocation  of  this  witness.  I  have  nothing 
to  do  with  what  he  asked  for.  How  did  you  know  it  was 
brandy?" 

"  Why,  he  asked  — " 

"  Gentlemen,  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  what  he  asked 
for.  He  might  have  asked  for  corrosive  sublimate,  but  he 
might  not  have  got  it.  Now,  sir,  I  want  you  to  remember 
that  they  can  color  water  to  present  the  precise  appearance 
of  brandy ;  did  you  smell  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  smelt  a  great  deal  of  liquor." 


A  COMMON  FARCE.  627 

"  All !  did  you  smell  the  identical  article  that  you  have  so 
presumptuously  stated  to  this  respectable  jury  was  brandy  ?  " 

"  No,  I  did  not  smell  it." 

"  Did  you  taste  it  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"Now  then,  remember,  sir,  you  may  be  deceived.  Re- 
member, sir,  that  toast  and  water  sometimes  looks  very  much 
like  pale  brandy ;  remember,  sir,  that  it  might  not  have  been 
brandy,  and  you  are  under  oath,  sir,  remember  that.  Now, 
taking  all  these  things  into  consideration,  sir,  are  you  pre- 
pared before  this  respectable  jury  to  say  that  that  man 
drank  brandy  procured  of  my  client?" 

"  Well,  no ;  I  should  not  be  willing  to  swear  to  that." 

"  That  will  do,  you  need  not  say  anything  further." 

The  whole  case  is  dismissed  because  it  is  not  proved. 
And  that  is  the  farce  enacted  and  re-enacted  again  and 
again  in  the  name  of  law.  Now  we  believe  that  only  by 
sweeping  this  traffic  away  and  prohibiting  it  entirely,  shall 
we  be  successful;  making  the  possession  of  articles  and 
implements  of  the  trade  satisfactory  evidence  of  its  being 
carried  on,  and  laying  the  burden  of  proof  on  the  liquor- 
seller  himself. 

We  have  borne  long  enough  with  it,  until  patience  seems 
to  cease  being  a  virtue.  I  heard  of  an  old  man,  a  very  patient 
old  man,  who  was  never  known  to  express  his  opinion  but 
once.  He  had  a  lot  of  hay,  all  made  and  ready  to  cart; 
the  rain  came  and  wet  it;  he  said  nothing,  but  made  the 
hay  over  again.  The  rain  came  a  second  time  and  wet 
it;  he  drew  down  his  face  and  made  the  hay  over  again. 
Finally  he  got  it  on  the  cart  and  thought  he  was  perfectly 
safe ;  but,  as  he  was  going  through  a  brook  with  it,  one 
of  the  wheels  came  off  and  the  hay  fell  into  the  water.  He 
said  nothing,  but  raked  out  as  much  of  it  as  he  could,  and 


628 


AN  EXCEEDINGLY  PATIENT  OLD  MAN. 


then  made  the  hay  again.  He  put  it  on  the  cart  a  fourth 
time,  and,  the  wind  being  very  high,  the  barn-door  came  off 
and  fell  on  top  of  the  old  man.  Some  one  came  to  his  assist- 
ance and  picked  him  up,  and  when  he  recovered  from  his 
flattening  process,  he  opened  his  mouth  and  spoke :  "  Well,  I 
begin  to  think  that  under  existing  circumstances  it  is  about 
time  for  me  to  ex- 
press myself."  And 
we  have  a  feeling 
now,  that  under  ex- 
isting circumstances 
it  is  about  time  for 
us  to  express  our- 
selves ;  and  the  pub- 
lic will  express  them-  I 1 

selves  in  a  way  not  — ^ 
to  be  misunderstood. 
Moral  suasion  will 
not  effect  the  object. 
I  heard  a  young  man 
in  a  railway  carriage 
tell  his  own  story 
while  conversing  on 
this  subject.  Said 

he  : EXHAUSTED   PATIENCE. 

"  My  father  was  a  drunkard  for  years  ;  my  mother  was  a 
strong-minded,  energetic  woman,  and  with  the  help  of  the 
boys  she  managed  to  keep  the  farm  from  debt  and  mortgage. 
When  my  father  signed  the  pledge,  what  pleased  her  most, 
next  to  his  having  signed  it,  was  that  she  could  tell  him  there 
was  not  a  debt  or  mortgage  on  the  farm.  He  used  to  drive 
into  the  city,  about  eight  miles  distant,  twice  a  week ;  and  I 
recollect  my  mother  saying  to  me,  '  I  wish  you  would  try  and 


A  YOUNG  MAN'S  STORY.  629 

persuade  your  father  not  to  go  any  more.  We  don't  need 
the  money  he  earns  ;  and,  George,  I  am  afraid  of  temptations 
and  old  associates.'  '  Oh,'  said  I,  '  don't  think  of  it ;  father 's 
all  right.'  Well,  one  evening  we  had  a  heavy  load,  and  were 
going  towards  home.  My  father  stopped  at  one  of  his  old 
places  of  resort,  and  gave  me  the  whip  and  reins,  intending 
that  I  should  remain  outside.  I  hitched  the  horses,  tied  up 
the  reins,  and  followed  him  in.  As  soon  as  the  landlord  saw 
my  father  he  said, 4 1  am  glad  to  see  you :  how  do  you  do  ?  Upon 
my  word  you  are  a  stranger.  How  long  is  it  since  the  tem- 
perance whim  got  hold  of  you  ? '  '  Oh,  about  two  years,'  said 
my  father.  'Well,'  said  the  landlord,  'you  see  we  are  getting 
on  here  very  well,'  and  they  chatted  together  for  some  time. 
By  and  by  he  asked  my  father  to  take  something  to  drink. 
'  Oh,  no,'  said  he,  1 1  don't  drink  now.'  '  Oh  !  but  I  have  got 
some  temperance  bitters  here,'  said  the  landlord ;  4  same  kind 
temperance  men  use,  and  they  acknowledge  that  it  is  purify- 
ing to  the  blood,  especially  in  warm  weather.  Just  try  a 
little.'  And  he  poured  out  a  glass  and  offered  it.  I  stepped 
up,  and  said,  '  Don't,  don't  give  my  father  that.'  That  gave 
the  liquor  seller  just  the  opportunity  he  wanted,  and  he  said, 
4  Well,  boys  are  n't  boys  hardly  now-a-days ;  they  get  to  be 
men  amazing  early.  If  I  had  a  boy  like  you,  I  think  I 
should  take  him  down  a  little.  What  do  you  think,  Mr. 
Meyers?  Do  you  bring  that  boy  along  to  take  care  of 
you  ?  Do  you  want  a  guardian  ? '  That  stirred  the  old 
man's  pride,  and  he  told  me  to  go  and  look  after  the 
horses.  He  sat  and  drank  till  ten  o'clock ;  and  every  time 
the  landlord  gave  him  drink,  I  said,  4  Don't  give  it  to  him.' 
At  last  my  father  arose — he  was  drunk.  I  got  him  into 
the  wagon  and  drove  towards  home.  My  heart  was  very 
heavy  and  I  thought  of  my  mother,  '  Oh  !  how  will  she  feel 
about  this  ? '  When  we  were  about  two  miles  from  home,  my 


630        A  MURDERER  PROTECTED  BY  LAW. 

father  said,  'I  will  drive.'  'No,  no,'  said  I,  'let  me  drive/' 
He  snatched  the  reins  from  me,  fell  from  the  wagon,  and, 
before  I  could  check  the  horses,  the  forward  wheel  had 
crushed  his  head  in  the  road.  I  was  till  midnight  getting 
his  dead  body  on  the  wagon.  My  mother  never  smiled 
from  that  day  to  the  day  of  her  death.  Four  months 
after  that,  she  died.  Now,"  said  the  young  man,  after  he 
had  finished  the  story,  "  that  man  killed  my  father ;  he  was 
my  father's  murderer.  I  saw  him  in  the  city  a  few  weeks 
ago,  and  do  you  suppose  I  could  hold  my  tongue  when  I 
saw  him  ?  I  said  to  him,  '  You  infernal  scoundrel,  you 
villain,  I  will  take  you  by  the  throat,  I  cannot  keep  my 
hands  from  you.'  What  did  he  say  ?  '  You  touch  me,  young 
man,  you  dare  to  lift  your  hand  against  me,  and  I  will  put 
you  in  the  custody  of  the  law  in  a  minute.' " 

Ah  yes,  if  he  had  laid  his  hand  upon  him,  he  would  have 
been  fined  for  an  assault  upon  the  murderer  of  his  father 
and  he  would  have  had  no  redress.  There  is  not  a  liquor- 
seller  but  can  entice  your  brother,  your  father,  your  son,  into 
his  dram-shop  to-night,  and  make  him  drunk  in  spite  of  your 
entreaties  and  your  prayers,  and  then  kick  him  out  at  mid- 
night, and  you  may  find  his  dead  body  in  the  gutter.  All 
you  have  to  do  is  to  take  the  dead  body  and  bury  it  and 
say  nothing  about  it ;  you  have  no  redress,  no  protection. 
Now  protection  is  what  we  want.  And  who  are  they  who 
have  worked  hard  for  prohibition  in  our  elections?  Often 
the  drunkards.  During  an  election  in  a  Vermont  town,  a 
man  who  was  half  drunk  said  to  his  friends,  "  Here,  give  us  a 
lift.  I  go  for  knocking  the  heads  of  the  barrels  in  and  for 
letting  the  liquor  run  in  the  street.  If  it  was  n't  for  tempta- 
tions at  every  corner,  I  'd  be  a  decent  man.  Come  and  help 
us.  Hurrah  for  the  liquor  law!  I  expect  I  shall  be  too 
drunk  to  be  here  this  afternoon,  and  I  have  come  to  help  you 
now." 


A  WEAKNESS  FOR  BACON.  631 

Who  are  they  who  are  opposed  to  the  prohibition  law  ?  I 
know  some  of  them,  and  I  will  tell  you  the  reason  of  their 
opposition  by  relating  an  anecdote  that  was  told  me  in  the 
West.  A  man  who  had  stolen  some  bacon  went  to  a  lawyer 
to  defend  him.  The  lawyer  said  he  thought  it  was  a  bad  case, 
and  he  would  not  take  it.  However,  the  man  prevailed  on 
the  lawyer  to  get  up  a  defence  for  him.  In  court,  five  wit- 
nesses swore  that  the  man  was  the  thief,  and  that  some  of  the 
bacon  was  found  in  his  possession.  The  lawyer  could  only  say 
a  few  words  about  the  man's  wife  and  family,  but  the  prisoner 


THE  JURYMEN  —  TEN  OF  WHOM  ATE  THE  BACON. 

seemed  perfectly  easy.  The  jury  at  once  returned  a  verdict  of 
"  Not  guilty."  "  Why,"  said  the  lawyer  aside  to  his  client, 
"  how  is  this  ?  There  must  be  something  behind  the  scenes 
which  I  do  not  see."  "  Yes,"  said  the  client,  "  there  is,  and 
I  don't  know  as  I  mind  telling  you;  ten  of  the  jury  had 
some  of  that  bacon."  Now  there  are  so  many  that  have  had 
some  of  the  bacon,  there  are  so  many  interests  involved  in 
the  liquor  business,  that  it  is  difficult  to  overturn  it. 

We  defend  humanity  against  the  wrong  this  use  of 
property  inflicts  upon  it,  —  some  people  seem  to  defend  the 
rights  of  property  against  those  of  humanity.  We  are  wag- 
ing war  against  an  immense  invested  capital,  I  grant  you ; 


632  PERSONAL  LIBERTY. 

but  invested  in  what  ?  Some  men  say  they  have  a  right  tc 
engage  in  whatever  business  they  choose,  and  do  what  thej 
please  with  their  own.  No,  they  have  not.  "  Yes,  but  you 
are  interfering  with  the  liberty  of  the  subject  if  you  prevent 
a  man  from  investing  his  property  as  he  may  choose."  A 
man  cannot  always  do  what  he  pleases  with  his  own.  Sup- 
pose a  man  has  a  vacant  lot  in  the  city.  He  has  the  title- 
deeds,  and  the  property  is  his  own  as  far  down  as  he  can  dig, 
and  as  high  up  as  he  can  build.  Suppose  he  has  a  cow,  or  a 
horse,  they  are  his  property,  too ;  he  owns  them  from  head  to 
hoofs ;  they  are  his.  Well,  suppose  one  of  them  should  die 
in  the  middle  of  July ;  it  is  his  property,  dead  or  alive.  Bu1 
suppose  he  draws  the  carcass  on  to  his  vacant  lot,  and  leaver 
it  there.  You  say  to  him,  "look  here,  my  friend,  this  is  a  per 
feet  nuisance."  "Mind  your  business ;  it  is  my  property,  anc 
I  have  a  right  to  put  my  property  on  my  property."  "No. 
you  have  not."  "Why?"  "Because  it  is  injuring  youi 
neighbors." 

Interfering  with  the  liberty  of  the  subject !  Suppose  you 
have  been  in  a  place  where  the  plague  is  raging.  You  pur- 
chase a  perishable  cargo,  and  invest  in  it  everything  you  have, 
and  all  you  can  borrow,  and  you  say,  "If  I  can  land  it  in 
fourteen  days  I  shall  make  my  fortune ;  if  not,  I  am  a  ruined 
man."  The  health  officers  come  on  board  the  ship,  as  you 
are  nearing  port,  and  put  it  under  quarantine  for  thirty  days. 
You  say,  "  But  everything  I  have  is  here,  and  I  shall  be  a  ru- 
ined man  if  I  don't  discharge  my  cargo  in  fourteen  days." 
"Yours  is  a  hard  case,  sir,  but  we  cannot  help  it.  Your 
cargo  must  remain  here  till  the  quarantine  is  up.  We  can- 
not permit  you  to  land  your  cargo."  "  Then  I  am  a  ruined 
man;  property  and  credit  gone.  I  must  land  my  cargo." 
"Look  at  yonder  city;  would  you  introduce  a  pestilence 
into  it  to  save  your  property  and  credit?  Shame  on  you 


A  CORRUPT  JUDGE.  533 

for  your  selfishness."  You  would  not  be  allowed  to  bring 
in  a  bale  of  rags  in  which  the  plague  may  be  lurking,  bring- 
ing disease  and  death  to  thousands,  no  matter  how  much  of 
your  property  may  be  invested  in  the  merchandise.  But 
here  are  smoking  fires  and  simmering  still  and  noisome 
vapors,  manufacturing  out  of  good,  healthy,  nourishing  grain 
an  instrumentality  that  tends  to  destroy  human  life,  and  to 
debase,  degrade,  and  imbrute  humanity  itself,  and  we  oppose 
them  for  the  sake  of  humanity. 

We  will  be  content  with  nothing  short  of  entire  prohibi- 
tion. What  a  farce  this  license  system  may  become !  In  a 
certain  town  I  was  asked  if  I  would  tell  some  circumstances 
if  they  would  relate  them  and  vouch  for  the  truth  of  the  state- 
ments. So  I  said  to  the  people  :  — 

"  Some  of  you  may  be  surprised  to  learn  that  licenses  are 
universally  granted  in  this  town,  when  the  people,  by  a  ma- 
jority of  five  hundred,  declared  they  wduld  have  no  licenses. 
I  can  let  you  into  the  secret,  and  I  will  tell  you  a  fact  or  two 
that  occurred  here.  One  of  the  judges  was  one  day  asked  why 
he  was  in  town.  He  replied  (he  was  a  Dutchman),  '  Oh,  I 
comes  to  town  to-tay  on  de  tavern  beesiness ;  de  liquor.  Ve 
gets  a  goot  dinner,  und  ve  gets  plenty  of  trinks  for  noting, 
und  it  pays  pretty  veil.'  He  then  went  into  a  shop  and  asked 
for  some  brandy-and-water.  It  was  given  to  him,  but  he  did 
not  pay.  4I  am,' he  said,  'one  of  de  judges,— you  under- 
stands, —  I  don't  pay  noting  for  liquor ; '  and  then  went  out. 
A  certain  liquor-seller,  speaking  to  the  judge,  after  there  had 
been  a  majority  of  five  hundred  against  the  liquor  traffic, 
said,  4  What  are  you  going  to  do  ? '  '  Oh,'  said  he,  '  I  do  n't 
know.  I  can't  give  no  advice  at  all.'  At  last  the  liquor-sel- 
ler offered  to  bet  with  the  judge  that  he  could  not  give  a 
license  if  it  was  applied  for,  and  the  bet  was  taken.  Some 
time  afterwards  I  saw  the  sheriff  of  the  place,  and  I  said, 


634 


SLAIN  BY  HIS  OWX  ACT. 


4  You  look  pale.'     4  Ah,  yes,'  he  said,  4 1  shall  never  get  over 

it.     It  is  my  duty  to  perform  the  part  of  executioner,  and  I 

had  to  hang  a  man.     I  offered  two  hundred  dollars  to  any  man 

who  would  do  it,  but  could  get  nobody.     It  has  broken  me 

down,  and  I  believe  death  has  struck  me."     It  was  a  horrible 

case,  too.     A  man  had  gone  into  the  shop  of  the  man  who 

was  selling  under  the 

license    granted 

through  the  bet  with 

the  judge.     The  man 

went    into   the    shop 

sober,  but  got  drunk, 

and    went    out    and 

murdered   that    very 

judge,   and  his   wife, 

while    they   were    in  'j 

bed;    for    which    the 

murderer   was   hung. 

Thus    the    man    was 

I  PW  7^fl  '^IgP/H,   "'I'       ///, 
murdered  by  the  hand  'R    'SBi  •  '^i// 

ij\          ^lffllll/l'*H  // 

of   another  who    ob- 
tained    the    fiery 
draught   that  nerved 
his  arm  to  murder  at  the  very  house  which  he  had  licensed 
for  a  bribe. 

Some  tell  us  that  prohibition  will  be  hard  on  the  liquor- 
seller.  Is  not  the  liquor  traffic  hard  upon  thousands  of  poor 
women  and  children  to-day?  Is  it  not  hard  upon  many 
who  are  sent  out  into  the  streets  to  beg,  or  for  worse  pur- 
poses ?  You  may  suppose  they  lie ;  I  do  not  believe  that  all 
of  them  do.  I  do  not  believe  that  the  poor,  pale-faced, 
gaunt  girl  did,  that  hung  with  both  her  hands  upon  my 
arm  after  I  had  looked  at  her  with  some  degree  of  sympathy, 


OH,    BUY   ME   A  BIT   OF   BREAD, 
FOR   I   AM   HUNGRY." 


THE   LIQUOR  TRAFFIC  A  CRIME.  635 

and  she  begged  me  for  something.  "Oh,"  said  she,  "I  don't 
want  money ;  buy  me  a  bit  of  bread,  a  bit  of  bread,  please, 
for  I  am  hungry."  "Where  do  you  live?"  "Oh,"  said  she, 
"my  father  is  a  drunkard,  and  he  beat  me  cruelly,  and  I  am 
hungry."  She  was  a  young  girl,  about  sixteen  years  of  age. 
You  may  tell  me  they  lie ;  but  I  believed  her,  and  helped  her, 
and  I  will  help  such  as  she  again.  Oh,  there  is  suffering  pro- 
duced by  the  drink,  —  more  than  if  all  those  engaged  in  the 
business  should  be  turned  out  of  that  business  to-day. 

We  are  against  property  for  the  sake  of  humanity,  for  the 
sake  of  the  miserable,  and  the  wretched,  and  the  oppressed, 
and  the  down-trodden.  We  seek  to  remove  temptations  that 
are  in  the  way  of  the  weak,  and  we  know  of  no  other  way  to 
do  it  than  by  classing  the  liquor  traffic  among  crimes,  and 
you  never  can  get  a  prohibitory  law  unless  you  make  liquor 
selling  a  crime.  What  do  you  want  with  laws  to  restrain  or 
control  an  honorable  business,  a  business  not  wicked  in  it- 
self ?  We  maintain  that  the  liquor  business  is  a  crime,  a  sin 
against  humanity,  a  sin  against  the  dealer  himself,  a  sin 
against  the  people,  a  sin  against  the  Commonwealth,  a  sin 
against  the  State,  a  sin  against  God.  And  we  believe  in  pro- 
hibiting that  which  is  evil.  If  it  is  prohibited,  it  must  be 
done  by  effectual  means.  Some  say,  "Use  less  stringent 
measures."  How  can  we  have  them?  A  gentleman  told 
me  that  all  attempts  to  regulate  this  traffic  are  persecutions 
of  the  liquor-seller.  My  doctrine  is  this :  If  it  is  right  for  a 
man  to  sell  liquor,  let  him  sell  it  and  never  trouble  him ;  if  it 
is  wrong,  prevent  him  from  selling  it  and  do  not  trouble  him, 
but  just  quietly  lift  him  out  of  his  business.  It  is  as  if  a 
man  has  a  very  bad  tooth  to  be  extracted  and  the  dentist 
gives  one  turn  with  his  instrument.  "  Oh,  dear  !  oh,  dear !  " 
You  have  done  him  no  good.  He  is  very  angry  and  knocks 
his  fists  together.  Put  him  in  the  chair  again,  and  give  the 


636  DIVIDING  THE  RECEIPTS. 

instrument  another  turn.  "  Oh ! "  Still  you  have  done  him 
no  good ;  he  spits  blood  dreadfully.  The  best  plan  is  to  set 
him  in  the  chair  again,  give  the  tooth  one  turn,  and  it  is  out, 
and  he  is  much  better  than  before. 

That  is  just  the  way  with  regulating  the  business.  It  is 
like  a  man  who  went  to  get  shaved.  The  barber  gave  one 
draw  with  the  razor.  Up  the  man  jumped.  "  Oh !  "  said  he. 
"What 's  the  matter?  "  "  It  pulls."  "  Never  mind,"  said  the 
barber,  "  sit  down  again,  my  friend.  If  the  handle  of  the  razor 
don't  break,  the  beard  is  bound  to  come  off."  If  the  handle 
of  this  mighty  lever  don't  break,  the  liquor-sellers  are  bound 
to  come  out,  though  it  is  very  hard.  We  had  at  one  time 
some  liquor-sellers  in  jail.  A  bad  place  to  put  them,  is  it 
not?  A  bad  place  for  their  victims.  Next  to  prohibition  is 
a  law  that  makes  the  liquor-seller  responsible  for  the  effects 
of  his  business.  If  a  man  goes  to  a  dram-shop  and  gets 
drunk,  and  it  can  be  proved  that  he  dies  through  drink,  that 
dram-seller  is  bound  to  support  the  bereaved  wife  and  family, 
and  if  he  cannot  do  it,  he  is  sold  out  and  made  a  pauper, 
and  the  money  from  the  sale  of  his  goods  is  given  to  the 
widow.  Now  that  is  fair.  I  heard  of  a  gentleman  once  who 
had  a  great  party  invited  and  he  had  no  fish.  He  told  the 
steward  he  must  have  some  fish,  whatever  price  was  paid. 
The  steward  came  and  said  there  was  a  man  who  had  a  fine 
turbot,  but  he  would  not  let  him  have  it  unless  he  gave  him 
a  hundred  lashes  on  his  back.  "The  man  is  a  fool,"  said 
the  gentleman,  "but  we  must  have  the  fish.  Bring  it  in." 
The  fish  was  brought,  and  the  man,  after  fifty  lashes  had 
been  given  to  him,  cried  out,  "  Hold  on  a  minute !  I  Ve  got 
a  partner  in  the  business."  "What,  two  such  fools?" 
"Yes,  your  porter  would  not  let  me  come  in  with  this  fish 
until  I  agreed  to  give  him  half  what  I  got  for  it."  "Bring 
him  in,  then,  and  let  him  have  it."  Now,  you  have  a  law 


A  UNIVEESAL  CKY.  637 

that  will  put  a  drunkard  in  jail  for  drunkenness.  Set  the 
drunkard  at  work,  sawing  wood,  or  anything  else  ;  put  the 
liquor  seller  at  the  other  end  of  the  saw,  and  let  them  look 
one  another  in  the  face. 

We  are  told  that  public  sentiment  is  not  ripe  for  such  a 
law.  It  is  ripe  for  a  discussion  on  the  subject  at  any  rate, 
and  that  the  friends  of  the  temperance  enterprise  are  bound 
to  give.  And  we  will  pour  the  truth  into  the  ears  of  the 
people  until  they  wake  up.  They  are  waking  up.  The 
cry  is  everywhere,  Give  us  something  to  stop  this  terrible 
tide  of  desolation.  When  men  ask  for  something,  we  know 
that  they  are  moving  one  step  in  the  right  direction,  for  that 
something  their  common  sense  and  sound  judgment  will  tell 
them  must  be  a  something  that  will  do  the  work  thoroughly. 
I  know  it  is  said  in  reference  to  some  of  these  laws  that  they 
are  very  stringent.  To  do  the  work,  they  must  be  stringent. 
Governor  Briggs  told  me  there  was  a  liquor  seller  in  a  State 
where  the  prohibitory  law  was  enacted,  who  said  he  would  bet 
a  hundred  dollars  that  they  could  not  break  him  up.  They 
said  they  did  not  want  to  make  any  bet,  but  they  would  try ; 
and  he  said  he  had  two  thousand  dollars  that  he  would  spend 
upon  the  trial.  Very  well,  they  said ;  they  would  give  him  a 
chance  to  spend  some  of  it.  They  let  him  go  on  steadily  for 
some  weeks.  He  sold  liquor  and  laughed  at  them  —  he  did 
not  care  anything  about  the  law  —  he  would  sell  as  long  as 
he  liked.  At  last  they  brought  him  up  to  the  mayor's  office, 
and  they  fined  him  ten  dollars  and  costs  upon  the  first  com- 
plaint that  was  heard.  He  paid  the  money,  and  was  going 
out  quite  impudently;  but  just  as  he  reached  the  door  an 
officer  served  a  writ  upon  him  and  brought  him  back  again. 
The  next  fine  was  twenty  dollars  and  costs.  He  paid  that, 
and  was  going  out  again.  The  officer  then  served  another 
writ  upon  him,  and  brought  him  back  again,  and  the  third 


638  A  DISCOMFITED  LIQUOR-DEALER. 

time  it  was  twenty  dollars  and  costs  and  three  months  in  the 
common  jail. 

"  I  will  appeal  from  the  decision  of  this  court." 

"  Very  well,  sir ;  find  two  sureties  in  one  hundred  dollars 
each,  that  you  will  prosecute  the  appeal  and  not  violate  any 
provisions  of  the  laws  for  the  suppression  of  grog  shops  and 
tippling-houses  while  the  appeal  is  pending,  and  we  shall  be 
prepared  to  try  the  other  cases ;  an  officer  will  attend  you  for 
the  purpose  of  getting  the  required  sureties." 

"  Other  cases ! "  said  the  liquor  seller,  "  how  many  have 
you  got,  then?" 

"  We  have  got  seventy-three." 

"  Seventy-three  !  gentlemen,  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  Yes,  there  are  seventy-three,  sir." 

"  May  I  look  at  the  complaints  ?  " 

"If  you  please." 

"  Have  you  got  the  witnesses  ?  " 

"  That  room  is  full  of  witnesses." 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  if  you  will  give  up,  I  will." 

"  That  is  all  we  want." 

Our  object  is  not  persecution,  we  want  to  wrong  no  man ; 
but  we  mean  to  surround  ourselves  with  the  wall  of  protection. 
If  anybody  can  show  us  a  better  way  than  by  the  annihi- 
lation of  the  liquor  business,  we  shall  be  very  glad  to  receive 
his  proposals.  But  do  not  hinder  us.  If  you  do  not  see  fit  to 
give  your  countenance  and  aid  and  co-operation,  do  not  attempt 
to  throw  obstacles  in  our  way.  The  day  is  dawning.  I  shall  be 
in  my  grave  and  the  green  grass  waving  over  it  before  victory  is 
achieved.  Is  that  any  reason  why  we  should  not  work  ?  We 
are  in  God's  hands  ;  if  we  are  right,  we  shall  succeed ;  if  we 
are  wrong,  our  movement  will  come  to  naught.  We  believe 
we  shall  succeed.  Let  us  have  faith,  let  us  trust.  What  is 
trust,  but  putting  your  foot  upon  the  void  and  finding  the 


FAITH  IN  OUR  ENTERPRISE. 

rock  beneath?  If  we  see  no  blade  of  grass  to  cheer  our 
sight,  let  us  sow,  let  us  water,  let  us  pray ;  coming  genera- 
tions will  reap  the  harvest,  and  we  may,  God  helping  us, 
stand  upon  the  shores  of  a  better  land  to  welcome  them  as 
they  come  with  the  sheaves  garnered  upon  the  field  that  we 
have  sown  in  tears  when  we  were  upon  earth. 

We  believe  that  our  enterprise  will  be  successful.  And 
why  ?  Not  because  we  have  organizations  and  instrumentali- 
ties simply.  No,  we  must  have  faith,  not  in  these,  nor  in  our 
advocacy,  for  it  is  but  breath ;  we  must  have  faith  in  some- 
thing else.  You  go  into  a  manufactory  and  there  you  see 
wheels,  shafts,  bands,  and  rollers,  all  ready  to  do  a  certain 
kind  of  work;  the  machinery  is  perfect,  but  motionless. 
Outside  there  is  a  large  wheel  revolving  with  mighty  power. 
There  is  the  motive  power,  there  is  the  machinery,  and 
there  is  the  work  to  be  accomplished,  but  nothing  is  done. 
What  shall  we  do?  Polish  our  machinery?  No,  no. 
Shall  we  adorn  it  with  badges,  banners,  and  flags,  and 
show  the  people  the  beauty  and  perfection  of  our  in- 
strumentality? No.  Then  what  shall  we  do?  Why,  some 
person  who  understands  the  mill  places  a  large  band 
over  the  big  wheel.  Now  everything  is  in  motion.  Why 
was  not  this  machinery  in  motion  before?  Because  it  was 
not  connected  with  the  motive  power.  What  is  the  motive 
power  in  this  enterprise  ?  He  who  sitteth  upon  the  circle  of 
the  earth,  who  "  telleth  the  number  of  the  stars  and  calleth 
them  all  by  their  names,"  who  "  healeth  the  broken  in  heart 
and  bindeth  up  their  wounds."  If  united  to  Him  by  a 
band  of  living  faith,  we  shall  work  and  leave  the  results 
with  Him. 

FINIS. 


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